JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES ; 


BELATED  BY  HIMSELF. 


A  STOEY  OP  AMERICAN  LIFE. 


BY 


BAYARD  BAYLOR. 


NEW  YORK: 
G.   P.   PUTNAM;  HURD  AND  HOUGHTON. 

1864. 
The  English  copyright  and  foreign  translation  reserved  by  the  Author. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

GEORGE  P.  PUTNAM, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 
Also  entered  at  Stationer's  Hall,  London. 


RIVERSIDE,  CAMBRIDGE: 
STEREOTYPED    AND    PRINTED    BY 

H.   0.  HOUGHTON  AND   COMPANY. 


TO  JAMES  LOR1MER   GRAHAM,  JR.,  ESQ., 
NEW  YORK. 

MY  DEAR  GRAHAM,  —  I  owe  it  to  your  kindness  that 
the  mechanical  labor  of  putting  this  book  into  words  has 
been  so  greatly  reduced  as  almost  to  become  a  pleasure. 
Hence  you  were  much  in  my  thoughts  while  I  wrote,  and  I 
do  not  ask  your  permission  to  associate  your  name  with  the 
completed  work. 

I  have  found,  from  experience,  that  whatever  the  pre 
liminary  explanations  an  author  may  choose  to  give,  they 
are  practically  useless.  Those  persons  who  insist  —  against 
my  own  express  declaration  —  that  "  Hannah  Thurston  " 
was  intended  as  a  picture  of  the  "  Reformers "  of  this 
country,  will  be  sure  to  make  the  discovery  that  this  book 
represents  the  literary  guild.  Those,  also,  who  imagine 
that  they  recognized  the  author  in  Maxwell  Woodbury,  will 
not  fail  to  recognize  him  in  John  Godfrey,  although  there 
is  no  resemblance  between  the  two  characters.  Finally, 
those  sensitive  readers  who  protest  against  any  represen 
tation  of  "American  Life,"  which  is  not  an  unmitigated 
glorification  of  the  same,  will  repeat  their  dissatisfaction, 
and  insist  that  a  single  work  should  contain  every  feature 
of  that  complex  national  being,  which  a  thousand  volumes 
could  not  exhaust. 

M269584 


IV  DEDICATION. 

I  will  only  say  (to  you,  who  will  believe  me)  of  this 
book,  that,  like  its  predecessor,  it  is  the  result  of  observa 
tion.  Not  what  ought  to  be,  or  might  be,  is  the  proper 
province  of  fiction,  but  what  is.  And  so,  throwing  upon 
John  Godfrey's  head  all  the  consequences  of  this  declara 
tion,  I  send  him  forth  to  try  new  fortunes. 

Yours  always, 

BAYARD  TAYLOK. 
CEDARCROFT,  September,  1864. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGE 

IN   WHICH,  AFTER   THE    VISIT    OF   NEIGHBOR   NILES,   MY    CHILD 


HOOD    SUDDENLY   TERMINATES 


CHAPTER  II. 

DESCRIBING    MY    INTRODUCTION     INTO    DR.    DYMOND'S    BOARD 
ING-SCHOOL  16 

CHAPTER  III. 

IN   WHICH    I    BEGIN    TO    LOOK   FORWARD 31 

CHAPTER  IV. 

CONTAINING  FEATS   IN  THE   CELLAR  AND  CONVERSATIONS 

UPON  THE  ROOF      .     .     .     ...     .     .      43 

CHAPTER  V. 

WHICH   BRINGS   A   STERNER   CHANGE    IN    MY   FORTUNES     .  .          58 

CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  WHICH   I   DISCOVER  A  NEW  RELATIVE       .  .  ,  .  75 

CHAPTER   VII. 

IN   WHICH     UNCLE   AND   AUNT   WOOLLEY   TAKE    CHARGE    OF   ME      86 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

DESCRIBING   CERTAIN   INCIDENTS   OF   MY   LIFE   IN   READING  99 

CHAPTER  IX. 

IN    WHICH    I    OUGHT    TO    BE    A    SHEEP,    BUT    PROVE    TO    BE    A 

GOAT  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  -HO 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER   X. 

CONCERNING   MY    ESTABLISHMENT    IN    UPPER    SAMARIA      .  .      126 

CHAPTER  XL 

CONTAINING     BRATTON's    PARTY    AND     THE     EPISODE     OF     THE 

LIME-KILN 138 

CHAPTER  XII. 

IN    WHICH    LOVE   AND    LITERATURE    STIMULATE   EACH    OTHER         157 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN   WHICH    I    DECLARE,    DECIDE,    AND    VENTURE  ....    167 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN   WHICH    I    GO    TO    MARKET,    BUT    CANNOT    SELL   MY    WARES         179 

CHAPTER   XV. 

CONCERNING     MY     ENTRANCE      INTO     MRS.      VERY's     BOARDING- 
HOUSE,    AND    VARIOUS    OTHER   MATTERS 192 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

DESCRIBING     MR.     WINCIl's     RECONCILIATION     BALL,     AND     ITS 

TWO    FORTUNATE    CONSEQUENCES       .  ....    202 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
WHICH  "CONDENSES  THE  MISCELLANEOUS"  OF  A  YEAR  .         .  216 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

IN   WHICH   I    AGAIN   BEHOLD   AMANDA  ,  »       -  .V       «.  .    226 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

RELATING  HOW  I  CAME    INTO   POSSESSION   OF   MY    INHERITANCE   242 

CHAPTER   XX. 

IN    WHICH    1    DINE   WITH    MR.    CLARENDON   AND   MAKE    THE   AC 
QUAINTANCE    OF   MR.    BRANDAGEE 254 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

IN   WHICH    I    ATTEND    MRS.    YORKTON's    RECEPTION      .  .  .    269 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

IN   WHICH    I    ENTER    GENTEEL    SOCIETY   AND    MEET    MY    RELA 
TIVES      .  284 


CONTENTS.  vii 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

DESCRIBING   MY    INTERVIEW   WITH    MARY    MALONEY  .  .  .    297 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A   DINNER-PARTY   AT   DELMONICO'S 306 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

CONTAINING,   AMONG    OTHER    THINGS,    MY    VISIT    TO    THE    ICH 
NEUMON       319 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

IN   WHICH    I     TALK    WITH    TWO    GIRLS    AT    A    VERY    SOCIABLE 

PARTY 332 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

WHICH    SHOWS    THAT    THERE   WAS    SOMETHING   MORE  .  .    343 

CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

WHICH  GIVES  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  A  FIRE,  AND  WHAT  FOLLOWED  IT    355 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

IN    WHICH    PENROSE    FLINGS    DOWN    THE    GLOVE    AND     I    PICK 

IT    UP 369 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

WHICH   BRINGS    A   THUNDERBOLT 381 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

IT   WHICH   I    BEGIN    TO    GO   DOWNWARDS 393 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 

CONCERNING    MARY  MALONEY's    TROUBLE,  AND  WHAT  I    DID    TO 

REMOVE    IT  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .    405 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

WHICH    SHOWS   WHAT    I    BECAME  .  .  .  .  .  .    417 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

IN   WHICH   I   HEAR   FOOTSTEPS      .  .  .  .  ...  .    430 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 

IN   WHICH    I    HEED    GOOD    ADVICE,    MAKE    A    DISCOVERY,    AND 

RETURN   TO   MRS.    VERY      ....  .    443 


viii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

WHICH   BRINGS    THE    SYMPHONY    TO    AN   END,   BUT    LEAVES   ME 

WITH   A   HOPE 454 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

WHICH   BRINGS   MY    FORTUNE    AT    LAST 465 

CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

OF    WHICH   JANE    BERRY    IS    THE    HEROINE  ....   479 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

IN   WHICH    I    RECEIVE    AN    UNEXPECTED    LETTER    FROM    UNCLE 

WOOLLEY 491 

CHAPTER  XL. 

CONCLUSION 504 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES; 

RELATED   BY  HIMSELF. 
CHAPTER  I. 

IN    WHICH,    AFTER     THE    VISIT    OF    NEIGHBOR    NILES,    MT 
CHILDHOOD    SUDDENLY    TERMINATES. 

I  WAS  sitting  at  the  front  window,  buried,  chin-deep,  in 
the  perusal  of  "  Sandford  and  Merton,"  when  I  heard  the 
latch  of  the  gate  click.  Looking  up,  I  saw  that  it  was  only 
Neighbor  Niles,  coming,  as  usual,  in  her  sun-bonnet,  with 
her  bare  arms  wrapped  in  her  apron,  for  a  chat  with 
mother.  I  therefore  resumed  my  reading,  for  Neighbor 
Niles  always  burst  into  the  house  without  knocking,  and 
mother  was  sure  to  know  who  it  was  by  the  manner  in 
which  the  door  opened.  I  had  gotten  as  far  into  the  book 
as  the  building  of  the  Robinson-Crusoe  hut,  and  one  half 
of  my  mind  speculated,  as  I  read,  whether  a  similar  hut 
might  not  be  constructed  in  our  garden,  in  the  corner 
between  the  snowball-bush  and  Muley's  stable.  Bob  Sim 
mons  would  help  me,  I  was  sure  ;  only  it  was  scarcely  pos 
sible  to  finish  it  before  winter,  and  then  we  could  n't  live 
in  it  without  a  fireplace  and  a  chimney. 

Mother  was  hard  at  work,  making  me  a  new  jacket  of 
gray  satinet,  lined  with  black  chintz.  My  reading  was  in 
terrupted  by  the  necessity  of  jumping  up  every  ten  minutes, 
jerking  off  my  old  coat  and  trying  on  the  new  one,  — 
sometimes  the  body  without  the  sleeves,  sometimes  one  of 
1 


2  JOHN    GODFREY'S     FORTUNES. 

the  sleeves  alone.  Somehow  it  would  n't  fit  at'  the  shoul 
ders,  and  the  front  halves,  instead  of  lying  smoothly  upon 
my  breast  as  they  should  have  done,  continually  turned  and 
flew  back  against  my  arms,  as  if  I  had  been  running  at  full 
speed.  A  tailor  would  have  done  the  work  better,  it  can't 
be  denied,  but  mother  could  not  afford  that.  "  You  can 
keep  it  buttoned,  Johnny  dear,"  she  would  say,  "  and  then 
I  think  it  '11  look  very  nice." 

Presently  the  door  burst  open,  and  there, was  Neighbor 
Niles,  voice  and  figure  all  at  once,  loud,  hearty,  and  bus-, 
tling.  Always  hurried  to  "  within  an  inch  of  her  life," 
always  working  "  like  six  yoke  of  oxen,"  (as  she  was  ac 
customed  to  say,)  she  inveterately  gossiped  in  the  midst 
of  her  labor,  and  jumped  up  in  sudden  spirts  of  work  when 
she  might  have  rested.  We  knew  her  well  and  liked  her. 
I  believe,  indeed,  she  was  generally  liked  in  the  neighbor 
hood  ;  but  when  some  of  the  farmers,  deceived  by  her  own 
chatter,  spoke  of  her  as  "  a  smart,  doing  woman,"  their 
wives  would  remark,  with  a  slight  toss  of  the  head,  "  Them 
that  talks  the  most  does  n't  always  do  the  most." 

On  this  occasion,  her  voice  entered  the  room,  as  nearly  as 
I  can  recollect,  in  the  following  style  :  — 

"  Good  mornin',  Neighbor  Godfrey  !  Well,  Johnny, 
how  's  he  ?  Still  a-readin'  ?  He  '11  be  gittin'  too  much  in 
that  head  o?  his'n.  Jist  put  my  bakin'  into  th'  oven,  —  six 
punkin-pies,  ten  dried-apple,  and  eight  loaves  o'  bread, 
besides  a  pan  o'  rusk.  If  I  had  nothin'  else  to  do  but 
bake,  't  would  be  enough  for  one  woman  :  things  goes  in 
our  house.  Got  the  jacket  most  done  ?  Might  ha'  saved 
a  little  stuff  if  you  'd  ha'  cut  that  left  arm  more  eater- 
cornered,  —  't  would  ha'  been  full  long,  I  guess,  and  there 
a'n't  no  nap,  o'  no  account,  on  satinet.  Jane  Koffmann, 
she  was  over  at  Readin'  last  week,  and  got  some  for  her 
boys,  a  fippenny-bit  a  yard  cheaper  'n  this.  Don't  know, 
though,  as  it  '11  wear  so  well.  Laws !  are  you  sewin'  with 
silk  instead  o'  patent  thread  ?  " 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  3 

"  I  find  it  saves  me  work,"  said  my  mother,  as  Neighbor 
Niles  popped  into  the  nearest  chair,  drew  her  hands  from 
under  her  apron,  leaned  over,  and  picked  up  a  spool  from 
the  lap-board.  "  Patent  thread  soon  wears  out  at  the 
elbows  and  shoulders,  and  then  there  are  rips,  you  know. 
Besides,  the  color  don't  hold,  and  the  seams  soon  look 
shabby." 

I  resumed  my  reading,  while  our  visitor  exhausted  the 
small  budget  of  gossip  which  had  accumulated  since  her 
last  visit,  two  days  before.  Her  words  fell  upon  my  ears 
mechanically,  but  failed  to  make  any  impression  upon  my 
mind,  which  was  wholly  fixed  upon  the  book.  After  a  while, 
however,  my  mother  called  to  me,  — 

"  Johnny,  I  think  there  's  some  clearing  up  to  do  in  the 
garden." 

I  knew  what  that  meant.  Mother  wished  to  have  some 
talk  with  Neighbor  Niles,  which  I  was  not  to  hear.  Many 
a  time  had  I  been  sent  into  the  garden,  on  the  pretence  of 
"  clearing  up  things,"  when  I  knew,  and  mother  also  knew, 
that  the  beds  were  weeded,  the  alleys  clean  scraped,  the 
rubbish  gathered  together  and  thrown  into  the  little  stable- 
yard,  and  all  other  work  done  which  a  strong  inventive 
faculty  could  suggest.  It  was  a  delicate  way  of  getting  me 
out  of  the  room. 

I  laid  down  my  book  with  a  sigh,  but  brightened  up  as 
the  idea  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  now,  at  once,  select 
the  site  of  my  possible  Crusoe  hut,  and  take  an  inventory 
of  the  material  available  for  its  construction.  As  I  paused 
on  the  oblong  strip  of  turf,  spread  like  a  rug  before  the 
garden -door,  and  glanced  in  at  the  back-window,  I  saw  that 
mother  had  already  dropped  her  sewing,  and  that  she  and 
Neighbor  Niles  had  put  their  heads  together,  in  a  strictly 
literal  sense,  for  a  private  consultation. 

The  garden  was  a  long,  narrow  plot  of  ground,  running 
back  to  the  stable  of  our  cow,  and  the  adjoining  yard,  which 
she  was  obliged  to  share  with  two  well-grown  and  voracious 


4  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

pigs.  I  walked  along  the  main  alley,  peering  into  the  beds 
right  and  left  for  something  to  "  clear  up,"  in  order  to 
satisfy  my  conscience  before  commencing  my  castle-  or 
rather  hut-building  ;  but  I  found  nothing  more  serious  than 
three  dry  stalks  of  seed-radishes,  which  I  pulled  up  and 
flung  over  the  fence.  Then  I  walked  straight  to  the  snow 
ball-bush.  I  remember  pacing  off  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  snug,  grassy  corner  behind  it,  and  discovering,  to  my 
grief,  that,  although  there  was  room  for  a  hut  big  enough 
for  Bob  and  myself  to  sit  in,  it  would  be  impossible  to  walk 
about,  —  much  less  swing  a  cat  by  the  tail.  In  fact,  we 
should  have  to  take  as  model  another  small  edifice,  which, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  bush,  already  disturbed  the  need 
ful  solitude.  Moreover,  not  a  hand's-breadth  of  board 
or  a  stick  of  loose  timber  was  to  be  found.  "  If  I  were 
only  in  Charley  Hand's  place  ! "  I  thought.  His  father  had 
a  piece  of  woodland  in  which  you  might  lose  your  way 
for  as  much  as  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  a  time,  with  enough 
of  dead  boughs  and  refuse  bark  to  build  a  whole  encamp 
ment  of  huts.  Charley,  perhaps,  might  be  willing  to  join 
in  the  sport ;  but  he  was  not  a  favorite  playfellow  of  mine, 
and  would  be  certain  to  claim  the  hut  as  his  exclusive  prop 
erty,  after  we  other  fellows  had  helped  him  to  build  it. 
He  was  that  sort  of  a  boy.  Then  my  fancy  wandered 
away  to  the  real  Crusoe  on  his  island,  and  I  repeated  to 
myself  Cowper's  "  Verses,  supposed  to  be  written  by  Alex 
ander  Selkirk."  Somehow,  the  lines  gave  an  unexpected 
turn  to  my  thoughts.  Where  would  be  the  great  fun  of 
playing  Crusoe,  or  even  his  imitators,  Sandford  and  Mer- 
ton,  in  a  back-garden,  where  a  fellow's  mother  might  call 
him  away  at  any  moment  ?  I  should  not  be  out  of  human 
ity's  reach,  nor  cease  to  hear  the  sweet  music  of  speech ; 
the  beasts  that  roam  over  the  plain  (especially  McAllister's 
bull,  in  the  next  field)  would  not  behold  my  form  with  in 
difference,  nor  would  they  suddenly  become  shockingly 
tame.  It  would  all  be  a  make-believe,  from  beginning  to 


JOHN"  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  5 

end,  requiring  even  greater  efforts  of  imagination  than  I 
had  perpetrated  a  few  years  earlier,  in  playing  at  the  vil 
lage  school,  — 

"  Here  come  three  lords,  all  out  of  Spain, 
A-courting  of  your  daughter  Jane," 

or  in  creating  real  terror  by  fancying  a  bear  crouching  be 
hind  the  briers  in  the  fence-corner. 

A  little  ashamed  of  myself,  I  walked  to  the  garden-paling, 
and  looked  over  it,  and  across  the  rolling  fields,  to  some 
low,  hazy  hills  in  the  distance.  I  belong  to  that  small 
class  of  men  whose  natures  are  not  developed  by  a  steady, 
gradual  process  of  growth,  but  advance  by  sudden  and 
seemingly  arbitrary  bounds,  divided  by  intervals  during 
which  their  faculties  remain  almost  stationary.  I  had  now 
reached  one  of  those  periods  of  growth,  —  the  first,  indeed, 
which  clearly  presented  itself  to  my  own  consciousness. 
I  had  passed  my  sixteenth  birthday,  and  the  physical 
change  which  was  imminent  began  to  touch  and  give  color 
to  the  operations  of  my  mind.  My  vision  did  not  pause  at 
the  farthest  hill,  but  went  on,  eagerly,  into  the  unknown 
landscape  beyond.  I  had  previously  talked  of  the  life  that 
lay  before  me  as  I  had  talked  of  Sinbad  and  Gulliver, 
Robert  Bruce  and  William  Tell :  all  at  once  I  became 
conscious  that  it  was  an  earnest  business. 

What  must  I  do  ?  What  should  I  become  ?  The  few 
occupations  which  found  a  place  in  our  little  village  re 
pelled  me.  My  frame  was  slight,  and  I  felt  that,  even  if  I 
liked  it,  I  could  never  swing  the  blacksmith's  hammer,  or 
rip  boards  like  Dick  Brown,  the  carpenter.  Moreover,  I 
had  an  instinctive  dislike  to  all  kinds  of  manual  labor, 
except  the  light  gardening  tasks  in  which  I  assisted  my 
mother.  Sometimes,  in  the  harvest-season,  I  had  earned  a 
little  pocket  -  money  on  the  neighboring  farms.  It  was 
pleasant  enough  to  toss  hay  into  cocks  on  the  fragrant 
meadows,  but  I  did  n't  like  the  smother  of  packing  it  in 


6  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

the  steaming  mows,  and  my  fingers  became  painfully  sore 
from  binding  sheaves.  My  ambition  —  at  this  time  but  a 
vague,  formless  desire  —  was  to  be  a  scholar,  a  man  of 
learning.  How  this  was  to  be  attained,  or  what  lay  beyond 
it,  I  could  not  clearly  see.  I  knew,  without  being  able  to 
explain  why,  that  the  Cross-Keys  (as  our  village  was 
called,  from  its  tavern-sign)  was  no  place  for  me.  But,  up 
to  the  afternoon  I  am  describing,  I  had  never  given  the 
subject  a  serious  thought. 

Many  a  boy  of  ten  knows  far  more  of  the  world  than  I 
then  did.  I  doubt  if  any  shepherd  on  the  high  Norwegian 
fjelds  lives  in  greater  seclusion  than  did  we,  —  my  mother 
and  myself.  The  Cross- Keys  lay  aside  from  any  of  the 
main  highways  of  the  county,  and  the  farmers  around  were 
mostly  descendants  of  the  original  settlers  of  the  soil,  a 
hundred  and  fifty  years  before.  Their  lives  were  still  as 
simple  and  primitive  as  in  the  last  century.  Few  of  them 
ever  travelled  farther  than  to  the  Philadelphia  market,  at 
the  beginning  of  winter,  to  dispose  of  their  pigs  and  poul 
try.  A  mixture  of  the  German  element,  dating  from  the 
first  emigration,  tended  still  further  to  conserve  the  habits 
and  modes  of  thought  of  the  community.  My  maternal 
grandfather,  Hatzfeld,  was  of  this  stock,  and  many  of  his 
peculiarities,  passing  over  my  mother,  have  reappeared  in 
me,  to  play  their  part  in  the  shaping  of  my  fortunes. 

My  father  had  been  a  house-  and  sign-painter  in  the 
larger  village  of  Honeybrook,  four  miles  distant.  Immedi 
ately  after  his  death,  which  happened  when  I  was  eight 
years  old,  my  mother  removed  to  the  Cross-Keys,  princi 
pally  because  she  had  inherited  the  small  cottage  and  gar 
den  from  her  spinster  aunt,  Christina  Hatzfeld.  There 
was  nothing  else,  for  my  great-aunt  had  only  a  life-interest 
in  the  main  estate,  which  —  I  do  not  know  precisely  how 
—  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  male  heirs.  My 
mother's  means  were  scarcely  sufficient  to  support  us  in 
the  simplest  way,  and  she  was  therefore  in  the  habit  of 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  7 

i 

"taking  in  sewing"  from  the  wives  of  the  neighboring 
farmers.  Her  labor  was  often  paid  in  produce,  and  she 
sometimes  received,  in  addition,  presents  of  fruit,  potatoes, 
and  fuel  from  the  kindly-hearted  people.  Thus  we  never 
reached  the  verge  of  actual  want,  though  there  were  times 
when  our  daily  fare  was  plainer  than  she  cared  to  let  the 
neighbors  see,  and  when  the  new  coat  or  shawl  had  to  be 
postponed  to  a  more  fortunate  season.  For  at  least  half 
the  year  I  attended  the  village  school,  and  had  already 
learned  nearly  as  much  as  a  teacher  hired  for  twenty  dollars 
a  month  was  capable  of  imparting.  The  last  one,  indeed, 
was  unable  to  help  me  through  quadratic  equations,  and 
forced  me,  unwillingly,  upon  a  course  of  Mensuration. 

Between  mother  and  myself  there  was  the  most  entire 
confidence,  except  upon  the  single  subject  of  my  future. 
She,  was  at  once  mother  and  elder  sister,  entering  with 
heart  and  soul  into  all  my  childish  plans  of  work  or  play, 
listening  with  equal  interest  to  the  stories  I  read,  or  relat 
ing  to  me  the  humble  incidents  of  her  own  life,  with  a 
sweet,  fresh  simplicity  of  language,  which  never  lost  by 
repetition.  Her  large  black  eyes  would  sparkle,  and  her 
round  face,  to  which  the  old-fashioned  puffs  of  hair  on  the 
temples  gave  such  an  odd  charm,  became  as  youthful  in 
expression,  I  am  sure,  as  my  own.  Her  past  and  her  pres 
ent  were  freely  shared  with  me,  but  she  drew  back  when  I 
turned  with  any  seriousness  towards  the  future.  At  one 
time,  I  think,  she  would  have  willingly  stopped  the  march 
of  my  years,  and  been  content  to  keep  me  at  her  side,  a 
boy  forever.  I  was  incapable  of  detecting  this  feeling  at 
the  time,  and  perhaps  I  wrong  her  memory  in  alluding  to 
it  now.  God  knows  I  have  often  wished  it  could  have 
been  so  !  Whatever  of  natural  selfishness  there  may  have 
been  in  the  thought,  she  weighed  it  down,  out  of  sight,  by 
all  those  years  of  self-denial,  and  the  final  sacrifice,  for  my 
sake.  No  truer,  tenderer,  more  single-hearted  mother 
ever  lived  than  Barbara  Godfrey. 


8  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

She  was  so  cordially  esteemed  in  our  little  community 
that  no  reproach,  on  my  account,  was  allowed  to  reach  her 
ears.  A  boy  of  my  age,  who  had  no  settled  occupation, 
was  there  considered  to  be  in  danger  of  becoming  a  use 
less  member  of  society ;  antipathy  to  hard,  coarse  manual 
labor  implied  a  moral  deficiency  ;  much  schooling,  for  one 
without  means,  was  a  probable  evil :  but  no  one  had  the 
heart  to  unsettle  the  widow's  comfort  in  her  child.  Now 
and  then,  perhaps,  a  visitor  might  ask,  "  What  are  you 
going  to  make  of  him,  Barbara  ? "  whereupon  my  mother 
would  answer,  "  He  must  make  himself,"  —  with  a  con 
fident  smile  which  put  the  question  aside. 

These  words  came  across  my  mind  as  I  leaned  against 
the  palings,  trying  to  summon  some  fleeting  outline  of  my 
destiny  from  the  vapory  distance  of  the  landscape.  I  was 
perplexed,  but  not  discouraged.  My  trials,  thus  far,  had 
been  few.  When  I  first  went  to  school,  the  boys  had  called 
me  "  Bricktop,"  on  account  of  the  auburn  tinge  of  my  hair, 
which  was  a  source  of  great  sorrow  until  Sam  Haskell, 
whose  head  was  of  fiery  hue,  relieved  me  of  the  epithet. 
Emily  Rand,  whose  blue  eyes  and  yellow  ringlets  confused 
my  lessons,  (I  am  not  certain  but  her  pink-spotted  calico 
frock  had  something  to  do  with  it,)  treated  me  scornfully, 
and  even  scratched  my  face  when  it  was  my  turn  to  kiss 
her  in  playing  "  Love  and  War."  The  farmers'  sons  also 
laughed  at  my  awkwardness  and  want  of  muscle ;  but  this 
annoyance  was  counterbalanced  in  the  winter,  when  they 
came  to  measure  another  sort  of  strength  with  me  at  school. 
I  had  an  impression  that  my  value  in  the  neighborhood 
was  not  estimated  very  highly,  and  had  periodical  attacks 
of  shyness  which  almost  amounted  to  self-distrust.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  had  never  experienced  any  marked  unkind- 
ness  or  injustice  ;  my  mother  spoke  ill  of  no  one,  and  I  did 
not  imagine  the  human  race  to  be  otherwise  than  honest, 
virtuous,  and  reciprocally  helpful. 

I  soon  grew  tired  of  facing  the  sober  aspect  of  reality, 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  9 

so  unexpectedly  presented,  and  wandered  off,  as  was  the 
habit  of  my  mind,  into  vague  and  splendid  dreams.  If  I 
had  the  Wonderful  Lamp,  —  if  a  great  roc  should  come 
sailing  out  of  the  western  sky,  pick  me  up  in  his  claws,  and 
carry  me  to  the  peaks  overlooking  the  Valley  of  Diamonds, 
—  if  there  were  still  a  country  where  a  cat  might  be  sold 
for  a  ship-load  of  gold,  —  if  I  might  carry  a  loaf  of  bread 
under  my  arm,  like  Benjamin  Franklin,  and  afterwards 
become  rich  and  celebrated,  (the  latter  circumstance  being, 
of  course,  a  result  of  the  former,)  —  there  would  be  no  dif 
ficulty  about  my  fate.  It  was  hardly  likely,  however,  that 
either  of  these  things  would  happen  to  me  ;  but  why  not 
something  else,  equally  strange  and  fortunate  ? 

A  hard  slap  on  a  conspicuous,  but  luckily  not  a  sensitive 
portion  of  my  body  caused  me  to  spring  almost  over  the 
paling.  I  whirled  around,  and  with  a  swift  instinct  of  re 
taliation,  struck  out  violently  with  both  fists. 

"  No,  you  don't !  "  cried  Bob  Simmons,  (for  he  it  was,) 
dodging  the  blows  and  then  catching  me  by  the  wrists.  "  I 
did  n't  mean  to  strike  so  hard,  John ;  don't  be  mad  about  it. 
I  'm  going  away  soon,  and  came  around  to  tell  you." 

Bob  was  my  special  crony,  because  I  had  found  him  to 
be  the  kindest-hearted  of  all  the  village  boys.  He  was  not 
bright  at  school,  and  was  apt  to  be  rough  in  his  language  and 
manners ;  but  from  the  day  he  first  walked  home  with  me, 
with  his  arm  around  my  neck,  I  had  faith  in  his  affection. 
He  seemed  to  like  me  all  the  better  from  my  lack  of  the 
hard  strength  which  filled  him  from  head  to  foot.  He  once 

O 

carried  me  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  his  arms,  when  I 
had  sprained  my  ankle  in  jumping  down  out  of  an  apple-tree. 
He  had  that  rough  male  nature  which  loves  what  it  has 

O 

once  protected  or  helped.  Besides,  he  was  the  only  com 
panion  to  whom  I  dared  confide  my  vague  projects  of  life, 
with  the  certainty  of  being  not  only  heard,  but  encouraged. 
"  Yes,"  said  Bob,  "  I  am  going  away,  maybe  in  a  few 
weeks." 


10  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  Where  ?     Not  going  away  for  good,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Like  as  not.  I  'm  nearly  eighteen,  and  Dad  says  it 's 
time  to  go  to  work  on  my  own  hook.  The  farm,  you  know, 
is  n't  big  enough  for  him  and  me,  and  he  can  get  along  with 
Brewster  now.  So  I  must  learn  a  trade  ;  what  do  you  think 
it  is  ?  " 

"  You  said,  Bob,  that  you  'd  like  to  be  a  mason  ?  " 

"  Would  n't  I,  though !  But  it 's  the  next  thing  to  it. 
Dad  says  there  a'n't  agoin'  to  be  many  more  stone  houses 
built,  —  bricks  has  got  to  be  the  fashion.  But  they  're  so 
light,  it 's  no  kind  o'  work.  All  square,  too ;  you  've 
just  to  put  one  atop  of  t'  other,  and  there  's  your  wall. 
Why,  you  could  do  it,  John.  Mort !  Mort !  hurry  up  with 
that  'ere  hod !  " 

Here  Bob  imitated  the  professional  cry  of  the  bricklayer 
with  startling  exactness.  There  was  not  a  fibre  about  him 
that  shrank  from  contact  with  labor,  or  from  the  rough  tus 
sle  by  which  a  poor  boy  must  win  his  foothold  in  the  world. 
I  would,  at  that  moment,  have  given  my  grammar  and  alge 
bra  (in  which  branches  he  was  lamentably  deficient)  for  a 
quarter  of  his  unconscious  courage.  A  wild  thought  flashed 
across  my  mind  :  I  might  also  be  a  bricklayer,  and  his  fel 
low-apprentice  !  Then  came  the  discouraging  drawback. 

"  But,  Bob,"  I  said,  "  the  bricks  are  so  rough.  I  don't 
like  to  handle  them." 

"  Should  n't  wonder  if  you  did  n't.  Lookee  there !  '* 
And  Bob  laid  my  right  hand  in  his  broad,  hard  palm,  and 
placed  his  other  hand  beside  it.  "  Look  at  them  two  hands ! 
they  're  made  for  different  kinds  o'  work.  There  's  my 
thick  fingers  and  broad  nails,  and  your  thin  fingers  and  nar 
row  nails.  You  can  write  a'most  like  copy-plate,  and  I  make 
the  roughest  kind  o'  pot-hooks.  The  bones  o'  your  fingers 
is  no  thicker  than  a  girl's.  I  dunno  what  I  'd  do  if  mine 
was  like  that." 

I  colored,  from  the  sense  of  my  own  physical  insignifi 
cance.  "  Oh,  Bob,"  I  cried,  "  I  wish  I  was  strong  !  I  '11 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  11 

have  to  get  my  own  living,  too,  and  I  don't  know  how  to 
begin." 

"  Oh,  there  's  time  enough  for  you,  John,"  said  Bob,  con 
solingly.  "You  need  n't  fret  your  gizzard  yet  awhile. 
There  's  teachin'  school  is  n't  so  bad  to  start  with.  You  '11 
soon  be  fit  to  do  it,  and  that 's  what  I  'd  never  be,  I  reckon." 

We  went  into  the  little  hay-mow  over  the  stable,  and  sat 
down,  side  by  side,  in  the  dusky  recess,  where  our  only 
light  came  through  the  cracks  between  the  shrunk  clap 
boards.  Bob  had  brought  a  horse  to  the  smith  to  be  shod  all 
round,  and  there  were  two  others  in  before  him ;  so  he  could 
count  on  a  good  hour  before  his  turn  came.  It  might  be 
our  last  chat  together  for  a  long  time,  and  the  thought  of 
this  made  our  intercourse  more  frank  and  tender  than  usual. 

"  Tell  me,  Bob,"  said  I,  "  what  you  '11  do  after  you  've 
learned  the  trade." 

"  Why,  do  journey-work,  to  be  sure.  They  get  a  dollar 
and  a  half  a  day,  in  Phildelphy." 

"Well,  — after  that?" 

"  Dunno.  P'raps  I  may  be  boss,  and  do  business  on  the 
wholesale.  Bosses  make  money  hand-over-fist.  I  tell 
you  what,  John,  I  'd  like  to  build  a  house  for  myself  like 
Eand's,  —  heavy  stone,  two  foot  thick,  and  just  such  big 
willy-trees  before  it,  —  a  hundred  acres  o'  land,  and  prime 
stock  on 't, ;  would  n't  I  king  it,  then !  Dad  's  had  a  hard 
time,  he  has,  —  only  sixty  acres,  you  know,  and  a  morgidge 
on  it.  Don't  you  tell  nobody,  —  I  'm  agoin'  to  help  him 
pay  it  off,  afore  I  put  by  for  myself." 

I  had  not  the  least  idea  of  the  nature  of  a  mortgage,  but 
was  ashamed  to  ask  for  information.  Sometimes  I  had 
looked  down  on  Bob  from  the  heights  of  my  superior 
learning,  but  now  he  seemed  to  overtop  me  in  everything,  — 
in  strength,  in  courage,  and  in  practical  knowledge.  For 
the  first  time,  I  would  have  been  willing  to  change  places 
with  him,  —  ah,  how  many  times  afterwards  ! 

When  we  went  down  out  of  the  hay-mow  it  was  nearly 


12  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

evening,  and  I  hurried  back  to  our  cottage.  The  fire  which 
I  was  accustomed  to  make  in  the  little  back-kitchen  was  al 
ready  kindled,  and  the  table  set  for  supper.  Mother  was 
unusually  silent  and  preoccupied ;  she  did  not  even  ask  me 
where  I  had  been.  After  the  simple  meal  —  made  richer 
by  the  addition  of  four  of  Neighbor  Niles's  rusks  —  was 
over,  we  took  our  places  in  the  sitting-room,  she  with  her 
lap-board,  and  I  with  "  Sandford  and  Merton."  She  did 
not  ask  me  to  read  aloud,  as  usual,  but  went  on  silently 
and  steadily  with  her  sewing.  Now  and  then  I  caught  the 
breath  of  a  rising  sigh,  checked  as  soon  as  she  became 
conscious  of  it.  Nearly  an  hour  passed,  and  my  eyelids 
began  to  grow  heavy,  when  she  suddenly  spoke. 

"  Put  away  the  book,  John.  You  're  getting  tired,  I  see, 
and  we  can  talk  a  little.  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

I  shut  the  book  and  turned  towards  her. 

"  It 's  time,  John,  to  be  thinking  of  making  something  of 
you.  In  four  or  five  years  —  and  the  time  will  go  by  only 
too  fast  —  you  '11  be  a  man.  I  'd  like  to  keep  you  here 
always,  but  I  know  that  can't  be.  I  must  n't  think  of  my 
self:  I  must  teach  you  to  do  without  me." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  do  without  you,  mother  !  "  I  cried. 

"  I  know  it,  Johnny  dear  ;  but  you  must  learn  it,  never 
theless.  Who  knows  how  soon  I  may  be  taken  from  you  ? 
I  want  to  give  you  a  chance  of  more  and  better  schooling, 
because  you  're  scarcely  strong  enough  for  hard  work,  and 
I  think  you  're  not  so  dull  but  you  could  manage  to  get 
your  living  out  of  your  head.  At  least,  it  would  n't  be 
right  for  me  not  to  help  you  what  little  I  can.  I  've  looked 
forward  to  it,  and  laid  by  whatever  I  could,  —  dear  me,  it 's 
not  what  it  ought  to  be,  but  we  must  be  thankful  for  what 's 
allowed  us.  I  only  want  you  to  make  good  use  of  your 
time  while  it  lasts ;  you  must  always  remember  that  every 
day  is  an  expense,  and  that  the  money  was  not  easy  to  get." 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  mother  ?  "  I  asked,  after 
a  pause. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  13 

"  I  have  been  talking  with  Neighbor  Niles  about  it,  and 
she  seems  to  see  it  in  the  same  light  as  I  do.  She 's  a 
good  neighbor,  and  a  sensible  woman.  Charley  Rand's 
father  is  going  to  send  him  this  winter  to  Dr.  Dymond's 
school,  a  mile  the  other  side  of  Honeybrook.  It 's  the  best 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  I  would  n't  want  you  to  be  far 
away  from  me  yet  awhile.  They  ask  seventy-five  dollars 
for  the  session,  but  Charley  goes  for  sixty,  having  his  wash 
ing  and  Sunday's  board  at  home.  It  seems  like  a  heap  of 
money,  John,  but  I  've  laid  away,  every  year  since  we  came 
here,  twenty  dollars  out  of  the  interest  on  the  fifteen  hun 
dred  your  father  left  me,  and  that 's  a  hundred  and  sixty. 
Perhaps  I  could  make  out  to  let  you  have  two  years' 
schooling,  if  I  find  that  you  get  on  well  with  your  studies. 
I  'm  afraid  that  I  could  n't  do  more  than  that,  because  I 
don't  want  to  touch  the  capital.  It 's  all  we  have.  Not 
that  you  would  n't  be  able  to  earn  your  living  in  a  few 
years,  but  we  never  know  what's  in  store  for  us.  You 
might  become  sickly  and  unable  to  follow  any  regular 
business,  or  I  " 

Here  my  mother  suddenly  stopped,  clasped  her  hands 
tightly  together,  and  turned  pale.  Her  lips  were  closed, 
as  if  in  pain,  and  I  could  see  by  the  tension  of  the  muscles 
of  her  jaws  that  the  teeth  were  set  hard  upon  each  other. 
Of  late,  I  had  several  times  noticed  the  same  action.  I 
could  not  drive  away  the  impression  that  she  was  endeavor 
ing  not  to  cry  out  under  the  violence  of  some  mental  or 
physical  torture.  After  a  minute  or  two,  the  rigidity  of 
her  face  softened ;  she  heaved  a  sigh,  which,  by  a  transition 
infinitely  touching,  resolved  itself  into  a  low,  cheerful 
laugh,  and  said,  — 

"  But  there  's  no  use,  after  all,  in  worrying  ourselves 
by  imagining  what  may  never  happen.  Only  I  think  it 
best  not  to  touch  the  capital ;  and  now  you  know,  Johnny, 
what  you  have  to  depend  on.  There 's  the  money  that  I  've 
been  saving  for  you,  and  you  shall  have  the  benefit  of  it, 


14  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

every  penny.  Some  folks  would  say  it  '<*  not  wisely  spent, 
but  it 's  you  must  decide  that  by  the  use  you  make  of  it. 
If  I  can  see,  every  Saturday  night  when  you  come  home, 
that  you  know  a  little  more  than  you  did  the  week  before, 
I  shall  be  satisfied." 

I  was  already  glowing  and  tingling  with  delight  at  the 
prospect  held  out  to  me.  The  sum  my  mother  named 
seemed  to  me  enormous.  I  had  heard  of  Dr.  Dymond's 
school  as  a  paradise  of  instruction,  unattainable  to  common 
mortals.  The  boys  who  went  there  were  a  lesser  kind  of 
seraphs,  sitting  in  the  shade  of  a  perennial  tree  of  knowl 
edge.  With  such  advantages,  all  things  seemed  suddenly 
possible  to  me  ;  and  had  my  mother  remarked,  "  I  expect 
you  to  write  a  book  as  good  as  *  The  Children  of  the 
Abbey,'  —  to  make  a  better  speech  than  Colonel  McAllis 
ter,  —  to  tell  the  precise  minute  when  the  next  eclipse  of 
the  sun  takes  place,"  —  I  should  have  answered,  "  Oh,  of 
course." 

"  When  am  I  to  go  ?"  I  asked. 

"  It  will  be  very  soon,  —  too  soon  for  me,  for  I  shall  find 
the  house  terribly  lonely  without  you,  John.  Charley 
Rand  will  go  in  about  three  weeks,  and  I  should  like  to 
have  you  ready  at  the  same  time." 

"  Three  weeks ! "  I  exclaimed,  with  a  joyous  excitement, 
which  I  checked,  feeling  a  pang  of  penitence  at  my  own 
delight,  as  I  looked  at  mother. 

She  was  bravely  trying  to  smile,  but  there  were  tears  in 
her  black  eyes.  One  of  her  puffs  fell  out  of  its  place  ;  I 
went  to  her  and  put  it  back  nicely,  as  I  had  often  done 
before,  —  I  liked  to  touch  and  arrange  her  hair,  when  she 
would  let  me.  Then  she  began  to  cry,  turning  away  her 
head,  and  saying,  "  Don't  mind  me,  Johnny ;  I  did  n't 
mean  to." 

It  cost  me  a  mighty  effort  to  say  it,  but  I  did  say,  —  "  If 
you  'd  rather  have  me  stay  at  home,  mother,  I  don't  want 
to  go.  The  cow  must  be  milked  and  the  garden  looked 
after,  anvhow.  I  did  n't  think  of  that." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  15 

"  But  I  did,  my  child,"  she  said,  wiping  her  eyes  with 
her  apron.  "  Neighbor  Niles  will  take  Muley,  and  give  me 
half  the  milk  every  day.  Then,  you  know,  as  you  will  not 
be  here  on  week-days,  I  shall  need  less  garden-stuff.  It 's 
all  fixed,  and  must  n't  be  changed.  I  made  up  my  mind  to 
it  years  ago,  and  ought  to  be  thankful  that  I  've  lived  to 
carry  it  out.  Now,  pull  off  your  shoes  and  go  to  bed." 

I  stole  up  the  narrow,  creaking  ladder  of  a  staircase  to 
my  pigeon-hole  under  the  roof.  That  night  I  turned  over 
more  than  once  before  I  fell  asleep.  I  was  not  the  same 
boy  that  got  out  of  the  little  low  bed  the  morning  before, 
and  never  would  be  again. 


16  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  II. 

DESCRIBING    MY   INTRODUCTION    INTO    DR.    DYMOND'S 
BOARDING-SCHOOL.      . 

FROM  that  day  the  preparations  for  my  departure  went 
forward  without  interruption.  Mother  quite  recovered  her 
cheerfulness,  both  permitting  and  encouraging  my  glowing 
predictions  of  the  amount  of  study  I  should  perform  and 
the  progress  I  should  make.  The  jacket  was  finished,  still 
retaining  its  perverse  tendency  to  fly  open,  which  gave  me 
trouble  enough  afterwards.  I  had  also  a  pair  of  trousers 
of  the  same  material ;  they  might  have  been  a  little  baggy 
in  the  hinder  parts,  but  otherwise  they  fitted  me  very  well. 
A  new  cap  was  needed,  and  mother  had  serious  thoughts 
of  undertaking  its  construction.  My  old  seal-skin  was 
worn  bare,  but  even  a  new  one  of  the  same  material 
would  scarcely  have  answered.  Somebody  reported  from 
Honeybrook  that  Dr.  Dymond's  scholars  wore  stylish  caps 
of  blue  cloth,  and  our  store-keeper  was  therefore  commis 
sioned  to  get  me  one  of  the  same  kind  from  Philadelphia, 
He  took  the  measure  of  my  head,  to  make  sure  of  a  fit ;  yet, 
when  the  wonderful  cap  came,  it  proved  to  be  much  too 
large.  "  'T  will  all  come  right  in  the  end,  Mrs.  Godfrey," 
said  the  store-keeper ;  "  his  head  '11  begin  to  swell  when  he 's 
been  at  school  a  few  weeks."  Meanwhile,  it  was  carefully 
accommodated  to  my  present  dimensions  by  a  roll  of  paper 
inside  the  morocco  lining.  A  pair  of  kip-skin  boots  —  real 
top-boots,  and  the  first  I  ever  had  —  completed  my  outfit. 
Compared  with  my  previous  experience,  I  was  gorgeously 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  17 

arrayed.  It  was  fortunate  that  my  Sundays  were  to  be 
spent  at  home,  as  a  second  suit,  much  less  a  better  one, 
was  quite  beyond  my  mother's  means. 

Mr.  Rand,  Charley's  father,  made  all  the  necessary  ar 
rangements  with  Dr.  Dymond,  and  kindly  offered  to  take 
me  over  to  the  school  in  his  "  rockaway,"  on  the  first  Mon 
day  of  November.  The  days  dragged  on  with  double  slow 
ness  to  me,  but  I  have  no  doubt  they  rushed  past  like  a 
whirlwind  to  mother.  I  did  everything  I  could  to  arrange 
for  her  comfort  during  my  absence,  —  put  the  garden  in 
w.inter  trim,  sawed  wood  and  piled  it  away,  sorted  the  sup 
plies  of  potatoes  and  turnips  in  the  cellar,  and  whatever 
else  she  suggested,  —  doing  these  tasks  with  a  feverish  haste 
and  an  unnecessary  expenditure  of  energy.  Whenever  I 
had  a  chance,  I  slipped  away  to  talk  over  my  grand  pros 
pects  with  Dave  Niles,  or  some  other  of  the  half-dozen  vil 
lage  boys  of  my  age.  I  felt  for  them  a  certain  amount  of 
commiseration,  which  was  not  lessened  by  their  sneers  at 
Dr.  Dymond's  school,  and  the  damaging  stories  which  they 
told  about  the  principal  himself.  I  knew  that  any  of  them  — 
unless  it  was  Jackson  Reanor,  the  tavern-keeper's  son  — 
would  have  been  glad  to  stand  in  my  new  boots. 

"  I  know  all  about  old  Dymond,"  said  Dave ;  "  he  licks 
awfully,  and  not  always  through  your  trousers,  neither. 
Charley  Rand  'd  give  his  skin  if  lie  had  n't  to  go.  His  fa 
ther  makes  him." 

"  Now,  that  '&  a  lie,  Dave,"  I  retorted.  (We  boys  used 
the  simplest  and  strongest  terms  in  our  conversation.)  "  Old 
Rand  would  n't  let  Charley  be  licked ;  you  know  he  took 
him  away  from  our  school  when  Mr.  Kendall  whacked  his 
hands  with  the  ruler." 

"  Then  he  '11  have  to  take  him  away  from  Dymond's  too, 
I  guess,"  said  Dave.  "  Wait,  and  you  '11  see.  Maybe 
there  '11  be  two  of  you." 

I  turned  away  indignantly,  and  went  to  see  Bob  Sim 
mons,  whose  hearty  sympathy  was  always  a  healing-plaster 


18  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

for  the  moral  bruises  inflicted  by  the  other  boys.  Bob  was 
not  very  demonstrative,  but  he  had  a  grave,  common-sense 
way  of  looking  at  matters  which  sometimes  brought  me 
down  from  my  venturesome  flights  of  imagination,  but  left 
me  standing  on  firmer  ground  than  before.  When  I  first 
told  him  of  my  mother's  plan,  he  gave  me  a  thundering 
slap  on  the  back,  and  exclaimed,  — 

"  She  's  a  brick  !  It  's  the  very  thing  for  you,  Johnny. 
Come,  old  fellow,  you  and  me  '11  take  an  even  start,  —  your 
head  aginst  my  hands.  I  would  n't  stop  much  to  bet  on 
your  head,  though  I  do  count  on  my  hands  doin'  a  good  deal 
for  me." 

Finally  the  appointed  Monday  arrived.  I  was  to  go  in 
the  afternoon,  and  mother  had  dinner  ready  by  twelve 
o'clock,  so  that  Mr.  Rand  would  not  be  obliged  to  wait  a 
minute  when  he  called.  Her  plump  little  body  was  in  con 
stant  motion,  dodging  back  and  forth  between  the  kitchen 
and  sitting-room,  while  she  talked  upon  any  and  every  sub 
ject,  as  if  fearful  of  a  moment's  rest  or  silence.  "  It  will 
only  be  until  Saturday  night,"  she  repeated,  over  and  over 
again.  How  little  I  understood  all  this  intentional  bustle 
at  the  time,  yet  how  distinctly  I  recall  it  now. 

After  a  while,  there  was  a  cry  outside  of  "  Hallo,  the 
house ! " —  quite  unnecessary,  for  I  had  seen  Rand's  rocka- 
way  ever  since  it  turned  out  of  the  lane  beyond  Reanor's 
stables.  I  hastily  opened  the  door,  and  shouted,  "  I  'm  com 
ing  ! "  Mother  locked  the  well-worn,  diminutive  carpet 
bag  which  I  was  to  take  along,  gave  me  a  kiss,  saying 
cheerfully,  "  Only  till  Saturday  night  !  "  and  then  followed 
me  out  to  the  gate.  Mr.  Rand  and  Charley  occupied  the  only 
two  seats  in  the  vehicle,  but  there  was  a  small  wooden  stool 
for  me,  where  I  sat,  wedged  between  their  legs,  holding  the 
carpet-bag  between  mine.  Its  contents  consisted  of  one 
shirt,  one  pair  of  stockings,  a  comb,  tooth-brush  and  piece 
of  soap,  a  box  of  blacking  and  a  brush.  I  had  never  heard 
of  a  night-shirt  at  that  time.  When  I  opened  the  bag,  after- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  19 

wards.  I  discovered  two  fall  pippins  and  a  paper  of  cakes 
snugly  stowed  away  in  one  corner. 

"  Good-day,  Mrs.  Godfrey  ! "  said  Mr.  Rand,  squar 
ing  himself  on  his  seat,  and  drawing  up  the  reins  for  a 
start ;  "  I  '11  call  on  the  way  home,  and  tell  you  how  I 
left  'em." 

"  I  shall  be  so  much  obliged,"  my  mother  cried.  "  Do 
you  hear,  Johnny  ?  I  shall  have  word  of  you  to-night  ; 
now,  good-bye  ! " 

Looking  back  as  we  drove  away,  I  saw  her  entering  the 
cottage-door.  Then  I  looked  forward,  and  my  thoughts 
also  went  forward  to  the  approaching  school-life.  I  felt  the 
joy  and  the  fear  of  a  bird  that  has  just  been  tumbled  out 
of  the  nest  by  its  parent,  and  flutteringly  sustains  itself  on 
its  own  wings.  I  did  not  see,  as  I  now  can,  my  mother 
glance  pitifully  around  the  lonely  room  after  she  closed  the 
door ;  carefully  put  away  a  few  displaced  articles  ;  go  to  the 
window  and  look  up  the  road  by  which  I  had  disappeared  ; 
and  then  sink  into  her  quaint  old  rocking-chair,  and  cry 
without  stint,  until  her  heart  recovers  its  patience.  Then  I 
see  her  take  up  the  breadths  of  a  merino  skirt  for  Mrs. 
Reanor,  and  begin  sewing  them  together.  Her  face  is  calm 
and  pale ;  she  has  rearranged  her  disordered  puffs,  and 
seems  to  be  awaiting  somebody.  She  is  not  disappointed  :  the 
gate-latch  clicks,  the  door  opens,  and  good  Neighbor  Niles 
comes  in  with  a  half-knit  stocking  in  her  hand.  This  means 
tea,  and  so  the  afternoon  passes  cheerfully  away.  But  when 
the  fire  is  raked  for  the  night  on  the  kitchen-hearth,  mother 
looks  or  listens,  forgetting  afresh  every  few  minutes  that 
there  will  be  no  sleeper  in  the  little  garret-room  to-night ; 
takes  up  her  lamp  with  a  sigh,  and  walks  wearily  into  her 
chamber  ;  looks  long  at  the  black  silhouette  of  my  father, 
hung  over  the  mantel-piece  ;  murmurs  to  herself,  —  is  it  a 
prayer  to  Our  Father,  or  a  whisper  to  the  beloved  Spirit  ? 
—  and  at  last,  still  murmuring  words  whose  import  I  may 
guess,  and  with  tears,  now  sad,  now  grateful,  lies  down  in 


20  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

her  bed  and  gives  her  soul  to  the  angels  that  protect  the 
holy  Sleep  ! 

Let  me  return  to  my  own  thoughtless,  visionary,  confident 
self.  Charley  and  I  chattered  pleasantly  together,  as  we 
rode  along,  for,  although  he  was  no  great  favorite  of  mine, 
the  resemblance  in  our  destined  lot  for  the  next  year  or 
two  brought  us  into  closer  relations.  Being  an  only  son, 
he  had  his  own  way  too  much,  and  sometimes  showed  him 
self  selfish  and  overbearing  towards  the  rest  of  us ;  but  I 
never  thought  him  really  ill-willed,  and  I  could  not  help 
liking  any  boy  (or  girl,  either)  who  seemed  to  like  me. 

Mr.  Rand  now  and  then  plied  us  with  good  advice,  which 
Charley  shook  off  as  a  duck  sheds  water,  while  I  received 
it  in  all  earnestness,  and  with  a  conscientious  desire  to  re 
member  and  profit  by  it.  He  also  enlarged  upon  our  fu 
ture  places  in  the  world,  provided  our  "  finishing "  at  the 
school  was  what  it  ought  to  be. 

"  I  don't  say  what  either  o'  you  will  be,  mind,"  he  said  ; 
"  but  there  's  no  tellin'  what  you  might  n't  be.  Member  o' 
the  Legislatur'  —  Congress  —  President :  any  man  may  be 
President  under  our  institootions.  If  you  turn  out  smart 
and  sharp,  Charley,  I  don't  say  but  what  I  might  n't  let  you 
be  a  lawyer  or  a  doctor,  —  though  law  pays  best.  You, 
John,  '11  have  to  hoe  your  own  row ;  and  I  dunno  what 
you  're  cut  out  for,  —  maybe  a  minister.  You  've  got  a  sort 
o'  mild  face,  like  ;  not  much  hard  grit  about  you,  I  guess, 
but 't  a'n't  wanted  in  that  line." 

The  man's  words  made  me  feel  uncomfortable  —  the 
more  so  as  I  had  never  felt  the  slightest  ambition  to  become 

O 

a  clergyman.   I  did  n't  quite  know  what  he  meant  by  "  hard 
grit,"  but  I  felt  that  his  criticism  was  disparaging,  con 
trasted   with    his    estimate    of   Charley.      My   reflections 
were  interrupted  by  the  latter  saying,  — 
"  I  'm  agoin'  to  be  what  I  like  best,  Pop  ! " 
I  said  nothing,  but  I  recollect  what  my  thoughts  were  : 
"  I  'm  going  to  be  what  I  can ;  I  don't  know  what ;  but  it 
will  be  something." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  21 

From  the  crest  of  a  long,  rolling  wave  of  farm-land  we 
now  saw  the  village  of  Honeybrook,  straggling  across  the 
bottom  of  a  shallow  valley,  in  the  centre  of  which,  hard 
against  the  breast  of  a  long,  narrow  pond,  stood  its  flour- 
and  saw-mills.  I  knew  the  place,  as  well  from  later  visits 
as  from  my  childish  recollections ;  and  I  knew  also  that  the 
heavy  brick  building,  buried  in  trees,  on  a  rise  of  ground 
off  to  the  northeast,  was  the  Honeybrook  Boarding- School 
for  Boys,  kept  by  Dr.  Dymond.  A  small  tin  cupola  (to 
my  boyish  eyes  a  miracle  of  architectural  beauty)  rose 
above  the  trees,  and  sparkled  in  the  sun.  Under  that 
magnificent  star  I  was  to  dwell. 

We  passed  through  the  eastern  end  of  the  village,  and  in 
another  quarter  of  an  hour  halted  in  a  lane,  at  one  end  of 
the  imposing  establishment.  Mr.  Rand  led  the  way  into 
the  house,  Charley  and  I  following,  carpet-bags  in  hand. 
An  Irish  servant-girl,  with  a  face  like  the  rising  moon, 
answered  the  bell,  and  ushered  us  into  a  reception-room  on 
the  right  hand  of  the  passage.  The  appearance  of  this 
room  gave  me  a  mingled  sensation  of  delight  and  awe. 
There  was  a  bookcase,  a  small  cabinet  of  minerals,  two 
large  maps  on  the  walls,  and  a  plaster  bust  of  Franklin  on 
the  mantel-piece.  The  floor  was  covere'd  with  oil-cloth, 
checkered  with  black  and  white  squares,  and  a  piece  of 
green  oil-cloth,  frayed  at  the  edges,  bedecked  the  table. 
The  only  ornament  in  the  room  was  a  large  spittoon  of 
brown  earthen-ware.  Charley  and  I  took  our  seats  behind 
the  table,  on  a  very  slippery  sofa  of  horse-hair,  while  Mr. 
Rand  leaned  solemnly  against  the  mantel-piece,  making 
frequent  use  of  the  spittoon.  Through  a  side-door  we 
heard  the  unmistakable  humming  of  a  school  in  full  blast. 

Presently  this  door  opened,  and  Dr.  Dymond  entered. 
I  looked  with  some  curiosity  at  the  Jupiter  Tonans  whose 
nod  I  was  henceforth  to  obey.  He  was  nothing  like  so 
large  a  man  as  I  expected  to  see.  He  may  have  been  fifty 
years  old  :  his  black  hair  was  well  streaked  with  gray,  and 


22  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

he  stooped  slightly.  His  gray  eyes  were  keen  and  'clear, 
and  shaded  by  bushy  brows,  his  nose  long  and  wedge- 
shaped,  and  his  lips  thin  and  firm.  He  was  dressed  in 
black  broadcloth,  considerably  glazed  by  wear,  and  his 
black  cravat  was  tied  with  great  care  under  a  very  high 
and  stiff  shirt-collar.  His  voice  was  dry  and  distinct,  his 
language  precise,  and  the  regular  play  of  his  lips,  from  the 
centre  towards  the  corners,  suggested  to  me  the  idea  that 
he  peeled  his  words  of  any  roughness  or  inaccuracy  as  they 
issued  from  his  mouth. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Rand  ?  "  he  said,  bowing  blandly  and  shaking 
hands.  "And  these  are  the  boys  ?  The  classes  are  scarcely 
formed  as  yet,  but  we  shall  soon  get  them  into  the  right 
places.  How  do  you  do  ?  This  is  young  Godfrey,  I  pre 
sume." 

He  shook  hands  with  us,  and  then  turned  to  Mr.  Rand, 
who  took  out  his  pocket-book  and  produced  two  small  rolls, 
one  of  which  I  recognized  as  that  which  mother  had  given 
to  him  when  we  left  home.  It  was  "  half  the  pay  in  ad 
vance,"  in  accordance  with  the  terms  of  the  institution. 
Dr.  Dymond  signed  two  pieces  of  paper  and  delivered 
them  in  return,  after  which  he  announced  :  — 

"  I  must  now  attend  to  my  school.  The  boys  may  remain 
in  the  family-parlor  until  tea,  when  they  will  join  the  other 
pupils.  They  will  commence  the  regular  course  of  study 
to-morrow  morning." 

He  ushered  us  across  the  passage  into  the  opposite  room, 
bade  good-bye  to  Mr.  Rand,  and  disappeared.  "  Well, 
boys,"  said  the  latter,  "  I  guess  it 's  all  ship-shape  now,  and 
I  can  go.  I  want  you  to  hold  up  your  heads  like  men,  and 
work  like  beavers."  He  shook  hands  with  Charley,  but 
only  patted  me  on  the  head,  which  I  did  n't  like  ;  so,  when 
Charley  ran  to  the  window  to  see  him  drive  down  the  lane, 
I  turned  my  back  and  began  examining  the  books  on  the 
table. 

There  were  "  Dick's  Works,"  and  Dr.  Lardner's  "  Scien- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  23 

tific  Lectures,"  and  "  Redfield's  Meteorology,"  and  I  don't 
know  what  besides,  for,  stumbling  on  Mrs.  Somerville's 
"  Physical  Geography,"  I  opened  that,  and  commenced  read 
ing.  I  had  a  ravenous  hunger  for  knowledge,  and  my  op 
portunities  for  getting  books  had  been  so  few  that  scarcely 
anything  came  amiss.  Many  of  the  technical  terms  used  in 
the  book  were  new  to  me,  but  I  leaped  lightly  over  them, 
finding  plenty  of  stuff  to  keep  my  interest  alive. 

"  I  say,  Jack,"  Charley  suddenly  called,  "  here  's  one  of 
the  boys ! " 

My  curiosity  got  the  better  of  me.  I  laid  down  the  book, 
and  went  to  the  window.  A  lank  youth  of  about  my  own 
age,  with  short  brown  hair  and  sallow  face,  was  leaning 
against  the  sunny  side  of  a  poplar-tree,  munching  an  apple. 
From  the  way  in  which  he  made  the  tree  cover  his  body, 
and  the  furtive  glances  he  now  and  then  threw  towards  the 
house,  it  was  evident  that  he  was  not  pursuing  the  "  regular 
course  of  study."  We  watched  him  until  he  had  finished 
the  apple  and  thrown  away  the  core,  when  he  darted  across 
to  the  nearest  corner  of  the  house,  and  crept  along  the 
wall,  under  the  very  window  at  which  we  were  standing. 
As  he  was  passing  it,  he  looked  up,  dodged  down  suddenly, 
looked  again,  and,  becoming  reassured,  gave  us  an  impu 
dent  wink  as  he  stole  away. 

We  were  so  interested  in  watching  this  performance 
that  a  sharp  "  Ahem ! "  in  the  room,  behind  us,  caused  us 
both  to  start  and  blush,  with  a  sense  of  being  accessories  in 
the  misdemeanor.  I  turned  and  saw  an  erect,  sparely 
formed  lady  of  thirty-five,  whose  clouded  gray  eyes  looked 
upon  me  through  a  pair  of  gold-rimmed  spectacles.  Her 
hair  was  brown,  and  hung  down  each  side  of  her  face  in 
three  long  curls.  Her  gown  was  of  a  black,  rustling  stuff, 
which  did  not  seem  to  be  silk,  and  she  wore  a  broad  linen 
collar,  almost  like  a  boy's,  with  a  bit  of  maroon-colored 
ribbon  in  front.  If  I  were  an  artist,  I  am  sure  I  could 
draw  her  entire  figure  at  this  moment.  It  was  Miss  Hitch- 


24  JOHX  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

cock,  as  I  discovered  next  day,  —  a  distant  relative,  I 
believe,  of  Dr.  Dymond,  who  assisted  him  in  teaching  the 
younger  boys,  and,  indeed,  some  of  the  older  ones.  Her 
specialty  was  mathematics,  though  it  was  said  that  she  was 
tolerably  well  versed  in  Latin  also. 

'  "  You  are  new  scholars,  young  gentlemen,  I  see,"  she 
remarked,  in  a  voice  notable,  like  Dr.  Dymond's,  for  its 
precise  enunciation.  "  May  I  ask  your  names  ?  " 

Charley  gave  his,  and  I  followed  his  example. 

"  Indeed  !  Godfrey  ?  A  mathematical  name  !  Do  you 
inherit  the  peculiar  talent  of  your  famous  ancestor  ?  " 

Her  question  was  utterly  incomprehensible  to  me.  I 
had  never  even  heard  of  Thomas  Godfrey  or  his  quadrant, 
and  have  found  no  reason,  since,  to  claim  relationship  with 
him.  I  had  a  moderate  liking  for  abstract  mathematics, 
but  not  sufficient  to  be  developed,  by  any  possibility,  into  a 
talent.  Consequently,  after  stammering  and  hesitating,  I 
finally  answered,  "  I  don't  know." 

"  We  shall  see,"  she  said,  with  a  patronizing,  yet  friendly 
air.  "  How  far  have  you  advanced  in  your  mathematical 
studies  ?  " 

I  gave  her  the  full  extent  of  my  algebra. 

"  Do  you  know  Logarithms  ?  " 

Again  I  was  cruelly  embarrassed.  I  was  not  sure 
whether  she  meant  a  person  or  a  book.  Not  being  able  to 
apply  the  term  to  anything  in  my  memory,  I  at  last  an 
swered  in  the  negative. 

"You  will  come  to  them  by  the  regular  progressive 
path,"  she  said.  "  Also  the  Differential  Calculus.  There 
I  envy  you  !  I  think  the  sense  of  power  which  you  feel 
when  you  have  mastered  the  Differential  Calculus  never 
can  come  twice  in  the  course  of  a  mathematical  curriculum. 
I  would  be  willing  to  begin  again,  if  I  were  certain  that 
I  should  experience  it  a  second  time."  Here  she  sighed, 
as  if  recalling  some  vanished  joy. 

For  my  part,  I  began  to  be  afraid  of  Miss  Hitchcock.     I 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  25 

had  never  encountered,  much  less  imagined,  such  a  prodigy 
of  learning.  I  despaired  of  being  able  to  understand  her ; 
how  she  would  despise  my  ignorance  when  she  discovered 
it !  I  afterwards  found  that,  although  she  was  very  fond  of 
expatiating  upon  mathematical  regions  into  which  few  of 
the  scholars  ventured,  she  was  a  very  clear  and  capital 
instructress  when  she  descended  to  the  simpler  branches. 

Turning  from  me,  she  now  said  to  Charley,  "  Do  you 
share  your  friend's  taste  ?  " 

He  appeared  no  less  bewildered  than  myself;  but  he 
answered,  boldly,  "  Can't  say  as  I  do." 

"  Come  to  me,  both  of  you." 

She  took  a  seat,  and  we  approached  her  awkwardly,  and 
with  not  a  little  wonder.  She  stretched  forth  her  hands 
and  grasped  each  of  us  by  the  outer  arm,  stationed  us  side 
by  side,  and  looked  from  one  to  another.  "  Quite  a  differ 
ence  in  the  heads  ! "  she  remarked,  after  a  full  minute  of 
silent  inspection  :  "  Number  is  not  remarkably  developed 
in  either ;  Language  good  in  both ;  more  Ideality  here," 
(touching  me  on  one  of  the  temples,)  "  also  more  of  the 
Moral  Sentiment,"  (placing  a  hand  on  each  of  our  heads). 
Then  she  began  rubbing  Charley's  head  smartly,  over  the 
ears,  and  though  he  started  back,  coloring  with  anger,  she 
composedly  added,  "  I  thought  so,  —  Acquisitiveness  six 
plus,  if  not  seven." 

We  retired  to  our  seats,  not  at  all  edified  by  these  caba 
listic  sentences.  She  presently  went  to  a  bookcase,  glanced 
along  the  titles,  and,  having  selected  two  bulky  volumes, 
approached  us,  saying,  "  I  should  think  these  works  would 
severally  interest  you,  young  gentlemen,  judging  from  your 
developments." 

On  opening  mine,  I  found  it  to  be  "  Blair's  Rhetoric," 
while  Charley's,  as  I  saw  on  looking  over  his  shoulder  at 
the  title,  was  the  first  volume  of  "  McCulloch's  Commercial 
Dictionary."  For  herself  she  chose  a  volume  of  equal  size, 
containing  diagrams,  which,  from  their  irregular  form,  I  am 


26  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

now  inclined  to  think  must  have  been  geological.  Charley 
seemed  to  be  greatly  bored  with  this  literary  entertainment, 
and  I  should  probably  have  been  equally  so,  had  I  not 
found  couplets  and  scraps  of  poetry  on  turning  over  the 
leaves.  These  kernels  I  picked  out  from  the  thick  husks  of 
prose  in  which  they  were  wrapped,  and  relished. 

The  situation  was  nevertheless  tedious,  and  we  were 
greatly  relieved,  an  hour  later,  when  the  dusk  was  already 
falling,  to  hear  the  loud  sound  of  a  bell  echoing  through 
the  house.  Miss  Hitchcock  rose  and  put  away  her  book, 
and  we  were  only  too  glad  to  do  likewise.  The  regular 
tramp  of  feet  sounded  in  the  passage,  and  presently  an  im 
mense  noise  of  moving  chairs  came  from  the  adjoining  room 
on  our  left.  The  door  of  this  room  opened,  and  Dr.  Dy- 
mond  beckoned  to  us.  On  entering,  we  beheld  two  long 
tables,  at  each  of  which  about  twenty  boys  or  young  men, 
of  all  ages  from  twelve  to  twenty-four,  were  seated.  Dr. 
Dymond,  placing  himself  at  the  head  of  the  first  table, 
pointed  out  to  us  two  vacant  seats  at  the  bottom  of  the  sec 
ond,  which  was  presided  over  by  Miss  Hitchcock.  All  eyes 
were  upon  us  as  we  walked  down  the  room,  and  I  know  I 
was  red  to  the  roots  of  'my  hair  ;  Charley  took  the  scrutiny 
more  easily.  It  was  not  merely  the  newness  of  the  expe 
rience,  though  that  of  itself  was  sufficiently  embarrass 
ing,  —  the  consciousness  of  my  new  clothes  covered  me 
awkwardly,  from  head  to  foot.  I  saw  some  of  the  boys 
wink  stealthily  at  each  other,  or  thrust  their  tongues  into 
their  cheeks,  and  envied  the  brazen  stare  with  which  my 
companion  answered  them. 

No  sooner  had  we  taken  our  seats  than  Dr.  Dymond 
rapped  upon  the  table  with  the  handle  of  his  knife.  The 
forty  boys  immediately  fixed  their  eyes  upon  their  plates, 
and  a  short  grace  was  uttered  in  a  loud  tone.  At  its  con 
clusion,  the  four  Irish  maids  in  waiting  set  up  a  loud  rat 
tling  of  cups  and  spoons,  and  commenced  pitching  measures 
of  weak  tea  upon  the  table.  I  was  so  amazed  at  the  rapid- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  27 

ity  and  apparent  recklessness  with  which  they  flung  the 
cups  down  beside  the  boys,  that  I  forgot  to  help  myself  to 
the  plate  of  cold  meat  until  all  the  best  pieces  were  gone, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  choose  between  a  few  fatty  scraps. 
This  dish,  with  some  country-made  cheese,  and  a  moder 
ate  quantity  of  bread  and  butter,  constituted  the  supper. 
When  Dr.  Dymond  had  finished,  he  clasped  his  hands 
over  his  stomach,  twirling  one  thumb  around  the  other, 
and  now  and  then  casting  a  sharp  glance  at  such  of  the 
boys  as  were  still  eating.  The  latter  seemed  to  have  a 
consciousness  of  the  fact,  for  they  hastily  crammed  the  last 
morsels  of  bread  into  their  mouths  and  gulped  down  half  a 
cup  of  tea  at  a  time.  In  a  few  moments  they  also  crossed 
their  knives  and  forks  upon  their  plates,  and  sat  erect  in 
their  chairs.  Thereupon  Dr.  Dymond  nodded  down  his 
table,  first  to  the  row  on  his  right  hand,  and  then  to  the 
row  on  his  left,  both  of  whom  rose  and  retired  in  the  same 
order.  Miss  Hitchcock  gave  a  corresponding  signal  to  our 
table,  and  I  found  myself,  almost  before  I  knew  it,  in  the 
school-room  on  the  other  side  of  the  hall.  Most  of  the 
boys  jerked  down  their  caps  from  the  pegs  and  rushed  out- 
of-doors,  being  allowed  half  an  hour's  recreation  before 
commencing  their  evening  studies.  With  them  went  Char- 

O  O 

ley,  leaving  me  to  look  out  for  myself.  Some  half-dozen 
youths,  all  of  them  older  than  I,  gathered  around  the  stove, 
and  I  sat  down  shyly  upon  a  stool  not  far  from  them,  and 
listened  to  their  talk.  Subjects  of  study,  village  news, 
the  private  scandal  of  the  school,  and  "  the  girls,"  were 
strangely  mingled  in  what  I  heard ;  and  not  a  few  things 
caused  me  to  open  my  eyes  and  wonder  what  kind  of  fel 
lows  they  were.  I  had  one  comfort,  however  :  they  were 
evidently  superior  to  my  former  associates  at  the  Cross- 
Keys. 

As  they  did  not  seem  to  notice  me,  I  got  up  after  a  while 
and  looked  out  the  window  at  the  other  boys  playing. 
Charley  Rand  was  already  "  hail-fellow  well-met "  with  the 


28  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

most  of  them.  I  have  never  since  seen  his  equal  for  mak 
ing  acquaintances. 

It  was  not  long  before  a  few  strokes  of  the  bell  hanging 
under  the  tin  cupola  called  them  all  into  the  school-room. 
Lamps  were  lighted,  and  the  Principal  made  his  appear 
ance.  His  first  care  was  to  assign  desks  tp  us,  and  I  was 
a  little  disappointed  that  Charley  and  I  were  placed  at  dif 
ferent  forms.  I  found  myself  sandwiched  between  a  grave, 
plodding  youth  of  two-and-twenty,  and  a  boy  somewhat 
younger  than  myself,  who  had  a  disagreeable  habit  of  whis 
pering  his  lessons.  At  the  desk  exactly  opposite  to  me  sat 
a  boy  of  eighteen,  whose  face  struck  me  as  the  most  beau 
tiful  I  had  ever  seen,  yet  the  impression  which  it  produced 
was  not  precisely  agreeable.  His  head  was  nobly  balanced 
and  proudly  carried,  the  hair  black  and  crisply  curling,  the 
skin  uniform  as  marble  in  its  hue,  which  was  a  very  pale 
olive,  the  lips  full,  short,  and  scornfully  curved,  and  the  eyes 
large  and  bright,  but  too  defiant,  for  his  years,  in  their  ex 
pression.  Beside  him  sat  his  physical  opposite,  —  a  red- 
cheeked,  blue-eyed,  laughing  fellow  of  fourteen,  as  fresh 
and  sweet  as  a  girl,  but  with  an  imp  of  mischief  dodging 
about  his  mouth,  or  lurking  in  the  shadow  of  his  light- 
brown  locks.  I  had  not  been  at  my  desk  fifteen  minutes 
before  he  stealthily  threw  over  to  me  a  folded  slip  of  paper, 
on  which  he  had  written,  "  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

I  looked  up,  and  was  so  charmed  by  the  merry  brightness 
of  the  eyes  which  met  mine  that  I  took  a  pen  and  wrote, 
"  John  Godfrey.  "What  is  yours  ?  " 

Back  came  the  answer,  —  "  Bill  Caruthers." 

It  was  several  days  before  I  discovered  why  he  and  all 
the  other  boys  who  heard  me  address  him  as  Bill  Caruthers 
laughed  so  immoderately.  The  little  scamp  had  written  the 
name  of  my  grave  right-hand  neighbor,  his  own  name  be 
ing  Oliver  Thornton. 

There  was  no  recitation  in  the  evening,  so,  after  a  few 
questions,  Dr.  Dymond  ordered  me  to  prepare  for  the  gram- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  29 

mar  class  in  the  morning.  I  attended  to  the  task  conscien 
tiously,  and  had  even  gone  beyond  it  when  bedtime  came. 
The  Doctor  himself  mounted  with  us  to  the  attic-story, 
which  was  divided  into  four  rooms,  containing  six  beds 
each.  I  had  expected  to  sleep  with  Charley  Rand,  and  was 
quite  dismayed  to  see  him  go  off  to  another  room  with  one 
of  his  new  playmates. 

I  stood,  meanwhile,  lonely  and  abashed,  with  my  little 
carpet-bag  in  hand,  in  the  centre  of  one  of  the  rooms,  with 
nine  boys  around  me  in  various  degrees  of  undress.  Dr. 
Dymond  finally  perceived  my  forlorn  plight. 

"  Boys,"  said  he,  "  which  beds  here  are  not  filled.  You 
must  make  room  for  Godfrey." 

"  Whitaker's  and  Penrose's,"  answered  one,  who  sat  in 
his  shirt  on  the  edge  of  a  bed,  pulling  off  his  stockings. 

The  Doctor  looked  at  the  beds  indicated.  "  Where  's 
Penrose  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Here,  sir,"  replied  Penrose,  entering  the  room  at  that 
moment.  It  was  my  vis-a-vis  of  the  school-room. 

"  Godfrey  will  sleep  with  you." 

Penrose  cast  an  indifferent  glance  towards  me,  and  pulled 
off  his  coat.  I  commenced  undressing,  feeling  that  all  the 
boys  in  the  room,  who  were  now  comfortably  in  bed,  were 
leisurely  watching  me.  But  Dr.  Dymond  stood  waiting, 
lamp  in  hand,  and  I  hurried,  with  numb  fingers,  to  get  off 
my  clothes.  "  A  slim  chance  of  legs,"  I  heard  one  of  the 
boys  whisper,  as  I  crept  along  the  further  side  of  the  bed 
and  stole  between  the  sheets.  Penrose  turned  them  down 
immediately  afterwards,  deliberately  stretched  himself  out 
with  his  back  towards  me,  and  then  drew  up  the  covering. 
Dr.  Dymond  vanished  with  the  lamp,  and  closed  the  door 
after  him. 

My  situation  was  too  novel,  and  —  let  me  confess  the  exact 
truth  —  I  was  too  frightened,  to  sleep.  I  had  once  or  twice 
passed  a  night  with  Bob  Simmons,  at  his  father's  house,  but 
with  this  exception  had  always  slept  alone.  The  silence 


30  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

and  indifference  of  my  bedfellow  troubled  me.  I  envied 
the  other  pairs,  who  were  whispering  together,  or  stifling 
their  laughter  with  the  bedclothes,  lest  the  Doctor  might 
hear.  I  tucked  the  edges  of  the  sheet  and  blankets  under 
me,  and  lay  perfectly  still,  lest  I  should  annoy  Penrose, 
who  was  equally  motionless,  —  but  whether  he  slept  or  not, 
I  could  not  tell.  My  body  finally  began  to  ache  from  the 
fixed  posture,  but  it  was  a  long  time  before  I  dared  to  turn, 
moving  an  inch  at  a  time.  The  glory  of  the  school  was 
already  dimmed  by  the  experience  of  the  first  evening,  and 
I  was  too  ignorant  to  foresee  that  my  new  surroundings 
would  soon  become  not  only  familiar,  but  pleasant.  The 
room  was  silent,  except  for  a  chorus  of  deep  breathings, 
with  now  and  then  the  mutterings  of  a  boyish  dream,  be 
fore  I  fell  asleep. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  31 


CHAPTER  III. 

IN    WHICH   I    BEGIN   TO    LOOK    FORWARD. 

THE  bell  in  the  cupola  called  us  from  our  beds  at  the  first 
streak  of  dawn.  The  clang  awoke  me  with  a  start,  my 
sleep  having  been  all  the  more  profound  from  its  delay  in 
coming.  For' a  minute  or  two  I  could  not  imagine  where 
or  what  I  was,  and  even  when  the  knowledge  finally  crept 
through  my  brain,  and  I  had  thrust  my  spare  legs  out  from 
under  the  bedclothes',  I  mechanically  kept  my  head  bent 
down  lest  it  should  bump  against  the  rafters  in  my  garret 
at  home.  Penrose,  who  was  already  half  dressed,  seemed 
to  notice  this  ;  there  was  a  mocking  smile  on  his  handsome 
lips,  but  he  said  nothing.  The  other  boys  set  up  such  a 
clatter  that  I  was  overlooked,  and  put  on  my  clothes  with 
less  embarrassment  than  I  had  taken  them  off. 

We  then  went  down-stairs  to  a  large  shed  —  an  append 
age  to  the  kitchen  —  at  the  back  of  the  house.  There 
was  a  pump  in  the  corner,  and  some  eight  or  ten  tin  wash 
basins  ranged  side  by  side  in  a  broad,  shallow  trough.  Four 
endless  towels,  of  coarse  texture,  revolved  on  rollers,  and 
there  was  much  pushing  and  hustling  among  the  boys  who 
came  from  the  basins  with  bent,  dripping  faces,  and  ex 
tended,  dripping  hands.  Towards  the  end  of  the  ablutions, 
as  the  dry  spots  became  rare,  the  revolution  of  the  towels 
increased,  and  the  last-comers  painfully  dried  themselves 
along  the  edges. 

There  was  a  fire  in  the  school-room,  but  the  atmosphere 
was  chilly,  and  the  dust  raised  by  the  broom  lay  upon  the 


32  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

desks.  My  neighbor  Caruthers,  however,  had  taken  his  seat, 
and  was  absorbed  in  the  construction  of  a  geometrical  dia 
gram.  I  made  a  covert  examination  of  him  as  I  took  my 
place  beside  him.  His  features  were  plain,  and  by  no  means 
intellectual,  and  I  saw  that  his  hands  were  large  and  hard, 
showing  that  he  was  used  to  labor.  I  afterwards  learned 
that  he  was  actually  a  carpenter,  and  that  he  paid  for  his 
winter's  instruction  by  the  summer's  earnings  at  his  trade. 
He  was  patient,  plodding,  and  conscientious  in  his  studies. 
His  progress,  indeed,  was  slow,  but  what  he  once  acquired 
was  never  lost.  In  the  course  of  time  a  quiet,  friendly  un 
derstanding  sprang  up  between  us  ;  perhaps  we  recognized 
a  similar  need  of  exertion  and  self-reliance. 

After  breakfast  the  business  of  the  school  commenced 
in  earnest  with  me.  Dr.  Dymond,  with  some  disqualifica 
tions,  had  nevertheless  correctly  chosen  his  vocation.  Look 
ing  back  to  him  now,  I  can  see  that  his  attainments  were 
very  superficial,  but  he  had  at  least  a  smattering  of  every 
possible  science,  a  clear  and  attractive  way  of  presenting 
what  he  knew,  and  great  skill  in  concealing  his  deficiencies. 
Though  he  was  rather  strict  and  exacting  towards  the 
school,  in  its  collective  character,  his  manner  was  usually 
friendly  and  encouraging  towards  the  individual  pupils. 
He  thus  preserved  a  creditable  amount  of  discipline,  with 
out  provoking  impatience  or  insubordination.  He  was  very 
fond  of  discoursing  to  us,  sometimes  for  an  hour  at  a  time, 
upon  any  subject  which  happened  temporarily  to  interest 
him  ;  and  if  the  regular  order  of  study  was  thereby  inter 
rupted,  I  have  no  doubt  we  were  gainers  in  the  end.  He 
had  the  knack  of  exciting  a  desire  for  knowledge,  which  is 
a  still  more  important  quality  in  a  teacher  than  that  of  im 
parting  it.  In  my  own  case,  I  know,  what  had  before  been 
a  vague  ambition  took  definite  form  and  purpose  under  the 
stimulus  of  his  encouragement. 

With  the  exception  of  Miss  Hitchcock,  there  was  no  reg 
ular  assistant.  One  of  the  oldest  pupils  took  charge  of  a 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  33 

dozen  of  the  youngest  scholars,  in  consideration  (as  was 
surmised  in  the  school)  of  being  received  as  a  boarder 
without  pay.  Mrs.  Dymond  —  or  Mother  Dymond,  as  the 
boys  called  her  —  was  rarely  seen,  unless  a  scholar  hap 
pened  to  fall  sick,  when  she  invariably  made  her  appear 
ance  with  a  bowl  of  hot  gruel  or  herb-tea.  She  was  a  mild, 
phlegmatic  creature,  with  weak  eyes,  very  little  hair  on  week 
days,  and  an  elaborate  cap  and  false  front  on  Sundays.  She 
had  no  children. 

My  first  timidity  on  entering  the  school  was  considerably 
alleviated  by  the  discovery  that  I  was  not  behind  any  of 
the  scholars  of  my  age  in  the  most  important  branches. 
Dr.  Dymond  commended  my  reading,  chirography,  and 
grammar,  and  gave  me  great  delight  by  placing  me  in  the 
"  composition  "  class.  I  had  a  blank  book  for  my  exercises, 
which  were  first  written  on  a  slate  and  then  carefully  copied 
in  black  and  white.  The  mysteries  of  amplification,  con 
densation,  and  transposition  fascinated,  me.  I  don't  know 
in  how  many  ways  I  recorded  the  fact  that  "  Peter,  the 
ploughman,  ardently  loved  Mary,  the  beautiful  shepherd 
ess."  I  drew  the  stock  comparisons  between  darkness  and 
adversity,  sunshine,  and  prosperity,  plunged  into  antithesis, 
and  clipped  away  pleonasms  with  a  boldness  which  aston 
ished  myself.  Pen  rose  was  in  the  same  class.  I  thought, 
but  it  may  have  been  fancy,  that  his  lip  curled  a  little  when- 
I  went  forward  with  him  to  the  recitation.  He  looked  at  me 
gravely  and  steadily  when  my  turn  came ;  I  felt  his  eye, 
and  my  voice  wavered  at  the  commencement.  It  seemed 
that  we  should  never  become  acquainted.  I  was  too  timid 
to  make  the  least  advance,  though  attracted,  in  spite  of  my 
self,  by  his  proud  beauty  ;  and  he  retained  the  same  air  of 
haughty  indifference.  At  night  we  lay  down  silently  side 
by  side,  and  it  was  not  until  the  fourth  morning  that  he  ad 
dressed  a  single  word  to  me.  I  heard  the  bell,  but  lingered 
for  one  sweet,  warm  minute  longer.  Perhaps  he  thought 
me  asleep ;  for  he  leaned  over  the  bed,  took  me  by  the 


34  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

shoulder,  and  said,  "  Get  up  !  "  I  was  so  startled  that  I 
sprang  out  of  bed  at  one  bound. 

I  noticed  that  young  Thornton,  though  a  very  imp  of  mis 
chief  towards  the  other  boys,  never  dared  to  play  the  least 
prank  upon  Penrose.  Something  had  happened  between 
the  two,  during  a  previous  term,  but  what  it  was,  none  ex 
cept  themselves  knew.  No  one,  I  was  told,  could  cope 
with  Penrose  in  muscular  strength,  yet  there  was  nothing 
of  the  bully  about  him.  He  was  respected,  without  being 
popular ;  his  isolation,  unlike  that  of  Caruthers,  had  some 
thing  offensive  about  it.  I  was  a  little  vexed  with  myself 
that  he  usurped  so  prominent  a  place  in  my  thoughts :  but 
so  it  was. 

Charley  Rand  took  on  the  ways  of  the  school  at  the 
start,  and  was  at  home  in  every  respect  before  two  days 
were  over.  I  could  not  so  easily  adapt  myself  to  the  new 
circumstances,  but  slowly  and  awkwardly  put  off  my  first 
painful  feeling  of  embarrassment.  Fortunately,  before  the 
week  was  over,  another  new  scholar  was  introduced,  and 
he  served  at  least  to  turn  the  attention  of  the  school  away 
from  me.  I  was  older  than  he  by  three  days'  experience, 
—  a  fact  which  gave  me  a  pleasant  increase  of  confidence. 
Nevertheless,  the  time  wore  away  very  slowly ;  months 
seemed  to  have  intervened  since  my  parting  with  my 
mother,  and  I  was  quite  excited  with  the  prospect  of 
returning,  when  the  school  was  dismissed,  early  on  Satur 
day  afternoon. 

"  Oh,  Charley ! "  I  cried,  as  we  passed  over  the  ridge 
beyond  Honeybrook,  and  Dr.  Dymond's  school  sank  out  of 
sight,  "  only  think  !  in  an  hour  we  shall  be  at  home." 

u  If 't  was  n't  for  the  better  grub  I  shall  get,  Godfrey, 
I  'd  as  lief  stay  over  Sunday  with  the  boys,"  said  he.  He 
had  already  dropped  the  familiar  "  Jack,"  but  this  shocked 
me  less  than  his  indifference  to  the  homestead,  where,  I 
knew,  he  was  always  petted  and  indulged.  It  was  not 
long  before  I,  in  turn,  learned  to  call  him  "  Rand." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  35 

He  continually  detained  me  by  stopping  to  search  for 
chestnuts  in  the  edges  of  the  groves,  or  to  throw  stones  at 
the  squirrels  scampering  along  the  top-rails  of  the  fences. 
Finally  I  grew  impatient,  and  hurried  forward  alone,  for 
the  houses  of  our  little  village  were  in  sight,  and  I  knew 
mother  would  be  expecting  me  every  moment.  I  felt  sure 
that  I  should  see  her  face  at  the  window,  and  considered  a 
moment  whether  I  should  not  jump  into  the  next  field  and 
cross  it  to  the  rear  of  our  garden,  so  as  to  take  her  by  sur 
prise.  I  gave  up  this  plan,  and  entered  by  the  front-door, 
but  I  still  had  my  surprise,  for  she  had  not  expected  me  so 
soon. 

"  "Well,  mother,  have  you  been  very  lonely  ?  "  I  asked, 
as  soon  as  the  first  joyous  greeting  was  over. 

"  No,  Johnny,  not  more  than  I  expected  ;  but  it 's  nice 
to  have  you  back  again.  I  '11  just  see  to  the  kitchen,  and 
then  you  must  tell  me  everything." 

She  bustled  out,  but  came  back  presently  with  red 
cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes,  moved  her  chair  beside  mine, 
and  said,  "  Now  "  — 

I  gave  the  week's  history,  from  beginning  to  end,  my 
mother  every  now  and  then  lifting  up  her  hands  and  say 
ing,  "  You  don't  say  so  !  "  I  concealed  only  my  own  feel 
ings  of  strangeness  and  embarrassment,  which  it  was  mor 
tifying  enough  to  confess  to  myself.  The  account  I  gave 
of  the  studies  upon  which  I  had  entered  was  highly  satis 
factory  to  my  poor  mother,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the 
pride  she  felt,  or  foresaw  she  should  feel,  in  my  advance 
ment,  helped  her  thenceforth  to  bear  her  self-imposed  sac 
rifice.  My  description  of  Miss  Hitchcock's  singular  ques 
tions  and  phrenological  remarks  seemed  to  afford  her  great 
pleasure,  and  I  am  sure  that  the  picture  which  I  drew  of 
Dr.  Dymond's  erudition  must  have  been  overwhelming. 

"  I  'm  glad  I  've  sent  you,  Johnny  ! "  she  exclaimed  when 
I  had  finished.  "  It  seems  to  be  the  right  place,  and  I 
don't  begrudge  the  money  a  bit,  if  it  helps  to  make  a  man 


36  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

of  you.  I  've  been  more  troubled  this  week  on  your  account 
than  my  own.  Some  boarding-schools  are  rough  places  for 
a  boy  like  you,  that  has  n't  been  knocked  about  and  made 
to  fight  his  way.  I  was  afraid  I  'd  kept  you  too  long  at 
home,  maybe,  but  I  guess  you  're  not  spoiled  yet,  —  are 
you?" 

"  No,  indeed,  mother ! "  I  cried,  jumping  up  to  smooth 
one  of  her  puffs.  How  glad  I  was  of  the  bit  of  boyish 
swagger  which  had  so  happily  deceived  her. 

We  had  "  short  cakes  "  and  currant-jam  for  supper  that 
night.  How  cosy  and  delightful  it  was,  to  be  sure  !  I  had 
brought  along  the  book  in  which  my  exercises  in  composi 
tion  were  written,  and  read  them  aloud,  every  one.  Poor 
mother  must  have  been  bewildered  by  the  transpositions  ; 
perhaps  she  wondered  what  upon  earth  it  all  meant ;  but 
she  said,  "  And  did  you  do  all  that  yourself?  "  with  an  air 
of  serious  admiration  which  made  my  heart  glow.  After 
supper,  Neighbor  Niles  came  in,  and  I  must  read  the 
exercises  all  over  again  for  her  benefit,  my  mother  every 
now  and  then  riodding  to  her  and  whispering,  "  All  his 
own  doing." 

"  It 's  a  deal  for  a  boy  o'  his  age,"  said  Neighbor  Niles ; 
"  though,  for  my  part,  I  've  got  so  little  book-larnin',  that  I 
can't  make  head  nor  tail  of  it.  Neither  my  old  man  nor 
my  boys  takes  to  sich  things.  Brother  Dan'l,  —  him  that 
went  out  to  the  backwoods,  you  know,  comin'  ten  year  next 
spring,  — he  writ  some  verses  once't  on  the  death  of 'Lijah 
Sykes,  cousin  by  the  mother's  side,  that  was — but  I  dis- 
remember  'em,  only  the  beginnin' :  — 

"  Little  did  his  parents  think,  and  little  did  his  parents  know, 
That  he  should  so  soon  be  called  for  to  go." 

If  Dan'l  'd  ha'  had  proper  schoolin',  he  might  ha'  been  the 
schollard  o'  the  fam'ly.  When  Johnny  gits  a  little  furder, 
I  should  n't  wonder  if  he  could  write  somethin'  about  my 
Becky  Jane,  —  somethin'  short  and  takin',  that  we  could 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  37 

have  cut  on  her  tombstone.  You  know  it  costs  three  cents 
a  letter." 

"  Think  of  that,  Johnny  ! "  cried  my  mother,  trium 
phantly  :  "  if  you  could  do  that,  now !  Why,  people  would 
read  it  long  after  you  and  I  are  dead  and  gone  !  " 

My  ambition  was  instantly  kindled  to  produce,  in  the 
course  of  time,  a  "  short  and  takin'  "  elegy  on  Becky  Jane. 
This  was  my  first  glimpse  of  a  possible  immortality.  ,  I 
looked  forward  to  the  day  when  my  fame  should  be  estab 
lished  in  every  household  of  the  Cross-Keys,  to  be  freshly 
revived  whenever  there  was  a  funeral,  and  the  inscriptions 
on  the  tombstones  were  dutifully  read.  Perhaps,  even,  I 
might  be  heard  of  in  Honeybrook,  and  down  the  Phila 
delphia  road  as  far  as  Snedikersville  !  There  was  no  end 
to  the  conceit  in  my  abilities  which  took  possession  of  me ; 
I  doubt  whether  it  has  ever  since  then  been  so  powerful. 
When  I  went  into  the  garden  the  next  morning,  I  looked 
with  contempt  at  the  little  corner  behind  the  snowball- 
bush.  What  a  boy  I  had  been  but  a  few  weeks  ago !  —  and 
now  I  was  a  man,  or  the  next  thing  to  it.  I  instinctively 
straightened  myself  in  my  new  boots,  and  felt  either  cheek 
carefully,  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  nascent  down ;  but,  alas ! 
none  was  perceptible.  Bob  Simmons  told  me  in  confidence, 
the  last  time  we  met,  that  the  hostler  at  the  Cross- Keys  had 
shaved  both  him  and  Jackson  Reanor,  and  had  predicted 
that  he  would  soon  have  a  beard.  I  must  wait  another 
year,  I  feared,  for  this  evidence  of  approaching  manhood. 

Bob,  I  found,  was  not  to  commence  his  apprenticeship 
until  early  in  the  spring.  I  longed  to  see  him  and  talk 
over  .my  school  experiences,  but  I  was  not  thoughtless 
enough  to  leave  mother  during  my  first  Sunday  at  home, 
especially  as  I  saw  that  the  dear  little  woman  was  becom 
ing  more  and  more  reconciled  to  the  change.  The  day 
was  passed  in  a  grateful  quiet,  and  we  went  early  to  bed, 
in  order  that  I  might  rise  by  daybreak,  and  be  ready  to 
join  Charley  Rand. 


38  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

Thus  week  after  week  of  the  new  life  went  by,  until  the 
pangs  of  change  were  conquered  to  both  of  us.  I  began  to 
put  forth  new  shoots,  like  a  young  tree  that  has  been  taken 
from  a  barren  hill-side  and  set  in  the  deep,  mellow  soil  of  a 
garden.  My  progress  for  a  time  was  astonishing,  for  all 
the  baffled  desires  of  my  later  childhood  became  so  many 
impelling  forces.  Mother  soon  ceased  to  be  the  oracle  she 
had  once  been ;  but  I  think  she  felt  this  (if,  indeed,  she 
was  aware  of  it)  as  one  joy  the  more.  Her  hope  was  to 
look  up  to  and  be  guided  by  me.  She  possessed  simply 
the  power  of  enduring  adverse  circumstances,  not  the 
energy  necessary  to  transform  them.  In  my  advancement 
she  saw  her  own  release  from  a  maternal  responsibility, 
always  oppressive,  though  so  patiently  and  cheerfully  borne. 

The  books  I  required  were  an  item  which  had  been  over 
looked  in  her  estimate  of  the  expenses,  and  we  had  many 
long  and  anxious  consultations  on  this  subject.  I  procured 
a  second-hand  geometry,  at  half-price,  from  Walton,  the 
young  man  who  taught  for  his  board,  and  so  got  on  with 
my  mathematics ;  but  there  seemed  no  hope  of  my  being 
able  to  join  the  Latin  class,  for  which  three  new  books  were 
required,  at  the  start.  By  Christmas,  however,  mother 
raised  the  necessary  funds,  having  obtained,  as  I  afterwards 
discovered,  a  small  advance  upon  the  annual  interest  of  the 
fifteen  hundred  dollars,  which  was  not  due  until  April.  This 
money  had  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  her  brother-in-law, 
Mr.  Amos  Woolley,  a  grocer,  in  Reading,  for  investment. 
She  had  never  before  asked  for  any  part  of  the  sum  in  ad 
vance,  and  I  suspect  it  was  not  obtained  without  some  dif 
ficulty. 

Dr.  Dymond  was  too  old  a  teacher  to  let  his  preferences 
be  noticed  by  the  scholars,  but  I  knew  that  both  he  and 
Miss  Hitchcock  were  kindly  disposed  towards  me.  He  was 
fond  of  relating  anecdotes  of  Franklin,  Ledyard,  Fulton, 
and  other  noted  men  who  had  risen  from  obscurity,  and  in 
citing  his  pupils  to  imitate  them.  Whatever  fame  the  latter 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  39 

might  achieve  would  of  course  be  reflected  upon  him  and  his 
school.  The  older  boys  —  who  were  mostly  plodding  youths 
of  limited  means,  ambitious  of  culture  —  were  also  friendly 
and  encouraging,  and  I  associated  almost  exclusively  with 
them.  The  pranks  of  the  younger  ones  were  no  longer 
formidable,  since  there  was  so  little  opportunity  of  their 
practical  application  to  me.  I  had  spirit  enough  to  resent 
imposition,  and  my  standing  as  a  scholar  prevented  me  from 
becoming  a  butt  suitable  for  torment :  so,  upon  the  whole, 
I  was  tolerably  happy  and  satisfied,  even  without  the  exist 
ence  of  an  intimate  friendship.  My  childish  faith  in  the 
truth  and  goodness  of  everybody  had  not  yet  been  shaken. 

Punctually,  every  Saturday  afternoon,  Charley  and  I  re 
turned  to  the  Cross-Keys,  on  foot  when  the  weather  was 
good,  and  in  Mr.  Eand's  "  rockaway  "  when  there  was  rain 
or  mud.  For  three  weeks  in  succession  the  sleighing  was 
excellent,  and  then  we  had  the  delight  of  a  ride  both  ways, 
—  once  (shall  I  ever  forget  it  ?  )  packed  in  with  the  entire 
Rand  family,  Emily,  Charley,  and  myself  on  the  front  seat, 
with  our  arms  around  each  other  to  keep  from  tumbling  off. 
Emily  was  very  gracious  on  this  occasion  ;  I  suppose  my 
blue  cap  and  gray  jacket  made  a  difference.  She  wore  a 
crimson  merino  dress,  which  I  thought  the  loveliest  thing  I 
had  ever  seen,  and  the  yellow  ringlets  gushed  out  on  either 
side  of  her  face,  from  under  the  warm  woollen  hood.  We 
went  home  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  I  forgot  my  car 
pet-bag,  on  "reaching  the  front  gate,  but  Charley  flung  it 
into  Niles's  yard. 

I  find  myself  lingering  on  these  little  incidents  of  my 
boyhood,  —  clinging  to  that  free,  careless,  confident  period, 
as  if  reluctant  to  march  forward  into  the  region  of  disen- 
chantments.  The  experiences  of  boys  differ  perhaps  as 
widely  as  those  of  men,  but  they  float  on  a  narrow  stream, 
and,  though  some  approach  one  bank  and  some  the  other, 
the  same  features  are  visible  to  all.  How  different  from 
the  open  sea,  where  millions  of  keels  pass  and  repass  day 


40  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

and  night,  rarely  touching  the  moving  circles  of  each  other's 
horizons,  —  some  sailing  in  belts  of  prosperous  wind,  be 
tween  the  tracks  of  tempest,  —  some  foundering  alone,  just 
out  of  sight  of  the  barks  that  would  have  flown  to  their  res 
cue  !  I  must  not  forget  that  the  details  of  my  early  history 
are  naturally  more  interesting  to  myself  than  to  the  reader, 
and  that  he  is  no  more  likely  to  deduce  the  character  of  my 
later  fortunes  from  them  than  I  was  at  the  time.  Even  in 
retrospect,  we  cannot  always  decipher  the  history  of  our 
lives.  The  Child  is  Father  of  the  Man,  it  is  true  :  but  few 
sons  are  like  their  fathers. 

The  only  circumstance  which  has  left  a  marked  impres 
sion  upon  my  memory  occurred  towards  the  close  of  the 
winter..  Both  Dr.  Dymond  and  Miss  Hitchcock  were 
obliged  to  leave  the  school  one  afternoon,  on  account  of 
some  important  occurrence  in  Honeybrook,  —  I  think  a  fu 
neral,  though  it  may  have  been  a  wedding.  Walton  was 
therefore  placed  at  the  central  desk,  on  the  platform,  and 
we  were  severely  enjoined  to  preserve  order  during  the  ab 
sence  of  the  principal.  We  sat  very  quietly  until  the  Doc 
tor's  carriage  was  seen  to  drive  away  from  the  door,  where 
upon  Thornton,  Rand,  and  a  number  of  the  other  restless, 
mischievous  spirits  began  to  perk  up  their  heads,  exchange 
winks  and  grins,  and  betray  other  symptoms  of  revolt. 
Walton  knew  what  was  coming :  he  was  a  meek,  amiable 
fellow,  sweating  under  his  responsibility,  and  evidently  be 
wildered  as  to  the  course  he  ought  to  pursue.  He  knit  his 
brows  and  tried  to  look  very  severe ;  but  it  was  a  pitiful  sham, 
which  deceived  nobody.  Thornton,  wTho  had  been  dodging 
about  and  whispering  among  his  accomplices,  immediately 
imitated  poor  Walton's  expression.  The  corrugation  of  his 
brows  was  something  preternatural.  The  others  copied  his 
example,  and  the  aspect  of  the  school  was  most  ludicrous. 
Still,  there  had  been  no  palpable  violation  of  the  rules,  and 
Walton  was  puzzled  what  to  do.  To  notice  the  caricature 
would  tje  to  acknowledge  its  correctness.  He  drew  his  left 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  41 

shoulder  up  against  his  ear  and  thrust  his  right  hand  into 
his  back  hair,  —  a  habit  which  was  known  to  the  school.  A 
dozen  young  scamps  at  once  did  the  same  thing,  but  with 
extravagant  contortions  and  grimaces. 

The  effect  was  irresistible.  There  was  a  rustling  and 
shaking  of  suppressed  laughter  from  one  end  of  the  school 
room  to  the  other  —  the  first  throes  of  an  approaching 
chaos.  For  the  life  of  me,  I  could  not  help  joining  in  it, 
though  sympathizing  keenly  with  Walton's  painful  position. 
His  face  flushed  scarlet  as  he  looked  around  the  room  ;  but 
the  next  instant  he  became  very  pale,  stood  up,  and  after 
one  or  two  convulsive  efforts  *o  find  a  voice,  —  which  was 
very  unsteady  when  it  came,  —  addressed  us. 

"  Boys,"  said  he,  "  you  know  this  is  n't  right.  I  did  n't 
take  Dr.  Dymond's  place  of  my  own  choice.  I  have  n't  got 
his  authority  over  you,  but  you  'd  be  orderly  if  he  was  here, 
and  he  's  asked  you  to  be  it  while  he 's  away.  It 's  his  rule 
you  're  breaking,  not  mine.  I  can't  force  you  to  keep  it, 
but  I  can  say  you  're  wrong  in  not  doing  it.  I  'm  here  to 
help  any  of  you  in  your  studies  as  far  as  I  can,  and  I  '11  at 
tend  to  that  part  faithfully  if  you  '11  all  cfo  your  share  in 
keeping  order." 

He  delivered  these  sentences  slowly,  making  a  long  pause 
between  each.  The  scholars  were  profoundly  silent  and 
attentive.  Thornton  and  some  of  the  others  tried  a  few 
additional  winks  and  grimaces,  but  they  met  with  no  en 
couragement  ;  we  were  waiting  to  see  what  would  come 
next.  When  Walton  finally  sat  down  he  had  evidently  lit 
tle  hope  that  his  words  would  produce  much  effect  ;  and 
indeed  there  was  no  certainty  that  the  temporary  quiet 
would  be  long  preserved. 

We  were  all,  therefore,  not  a  little  startled  when  Pen- 
rose  suddenly  arose  from  his  seat,  and  said,  in  a  clear,  firm 
voice,  —  "I  am  sure  I  speak  the  sentiments  of  all  my  fel 
low-scholars,  Mr.  Walton,  when  I  say  that  we  will  keep 
order." 


42  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

The  older  boys  nodded  their  assent  and  resumed  their 
studies.  Thornton  hung  down  his  head,  and  seemed  to 
have  quite  lost  his  spirits  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  But  the 
business  of  the  school  went  on  like  clock-work.  I  don't 
think  we  ever  had  so  quiet  an  afternoon. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  43 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CONTAINING  FEATS  IN  THE  CELLAR  AND  CONVERSATIONS 
UPON  THE  ROOF. 

WITH  the  end  of  March  the  winter  term  of  the  school 
came  to  a  close.  I  had  established  my  position  as  an  apt 
and  rapidly  advancing  scholar  ;  others  had  the  start  of  me, 
but  no  one  made  better  progress.  I  had  mastered,  among 
other  things,  Geometry  and  a  Latin  epitome  of  Sacred  His 
tory.  The  mystic  words  —  "  Deus  creavit  ccelum  et  terram  " 
—  which  I  had  approached  with  wonder  and  reverence,  as 
if  they  had  been  thundered  out  of  an  unseen  world,  were 
now  become  as  simple  and  familiar  as  anything  in  Peter 
Parley.  Miss  Hitchcock,  with  the  air  of  a  queen  conferring 
the  order  of  the  Shower-Bath,  promised  me  Cornelius  Ne- 
pos  and  Fluxions  for  the  summer  term ;  and  Dr.  Dymond 
hinted  to  the  composition-class  that  we  might  soon  try  our 
hands  at  original  essays.  Something  was  also  said  about  a 
debating  club.  The  perspective  lengthened  and  brightened 
with  every  forward  step. 

The  close  of  the  term  was  signalized  by  a  school  exhi 
bition,  to  which  were  invited  the  relatives  of  the  pupils  and 
the  principal  personages  in  Honeybrook,  —  two  clergymen, 
the  doctor,  the  "  squire,"  the  teacher  of  the  common  school, 
and  six  retired  families  of  independent  means.  To  most 
of  us  boys  it  was  both  a  proud  and  solemn  occasion.  I  was 
bent  upon  having  mother  to  witness  my  performance,  and 
hoped  she  could  come  with  the  Rands,  but  their  biggest 
and  best  carriage  would  hold  no  more  than  themselves. 
At  the  last  moment  Neighbor  Niles  made  the  offer  of  an 


44  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

ancient  horse  and  vehicle,  which  she  used  for  her  own  oc 
casional  visits  in  the  neighborhood.  As  the  horse  had  fre 
quently  been  known  to  stop  in  the  road,  but  never,  of  his 
own  will,  to  go  fast.er  than  a  creeping  walk,  it  was  con 
sidered  safe  for  mother  to  drive  him  over  alone  and  take 
me  home  with  her  for  my  month's  vacation. 

At  the  appointed  time  she  made  her  appearance,  dressed 
in  the  brown  silk  that  dated  from  her  wedded  days,  and  the 
venerable  crape  shawl  which  had  once  covered  the  shoul 
ders  of  Aunt  Christina.  She  was  quite  overawed  on  being 
presented  to  Dr.  Dymond  and  Miss  Hitchcock,  but  made 
speedy  acquaintance  with  Mother  Dymond,  and,  indeed, 
took  a  seat  beside  her  in  the  front  row  of  spectators.  The 
exercises  wTere  very  simple.  Specimens  of  our  penmanship 
and  geometrical  diagrams  (which  few  of  the  guests  under 
stood)  were  exhibited  ;  we  were  drilled  in  mental  arithme 
tic,  and  answered  chemical,  pneumatic,  hydraulic,  and  astro 
nomical  questions.  But  the  crowning  pride  and  interest  of 
the  day  was  reserved  for  the  declamations,  in  which  at  least 
half  the  pupils  took  part.  From  the  classic  contents  of  the 
"  Columbian  Orator,"  we  selected  passages  from  Robert 
Emmet,  William  Pitt,  Patrick  Henry,  and  Cicero ;  Byron, 
Joel  Barlow,  and  Milton  ;  Addison  and  Red  Jacket.  Dr. 
Dymond  assigned  to  me  the  part  of  "  David,"  from  Hannah 
More's  dramatic  poem.  I  did  n't  quite  like  to  be  addressed 
as  "  girl !  "  by  Bill  D'awson,  —  the  biggest  boy  in  the  school, 
who  was  Goliath,  —  or  to  be  told  to 

-Go, 

And  hold  fond  dalliance  with  the  Syrian  maids : 
To  wanton  measui'es  dance ;  and  let  them  braid 
The  bright  luxuriance  of  thy  golden  hair," — 

especially  as  Thornton  and  the  younger  fellows  snickered 
when  he  came  to  the  last  line.  My  hair  might  still  have 
had  a  reddish  tinge  where  the  sun  struck  across  it,  but  it 
was  growing  darker  from  year  to  year.  I  gave  it  back  to 
Goliath,  however,  when  it  came  to  my  turn  to  say,  — 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  45 

"  I  do  defy  thee, 
Thou  foul  idolater !" 

or  when,  dilating  into  prophecy,  I  screamed,  — 

"  Nor  thee  alone,  — 

The  mangled  carcasses  of  your  thick  hosts 
Shall  spread  the  plains  of  Elah!  " 

I  think  I  produced  an  effect.  I  know  that  mother  looked 
triumphant  when  I  swung  a  piece  of  leather  with  nothing 
in  it,  and  Bill  Dawson  tumbled  full  length  on  the  platform, 
occasioning  mild  exclamations  and  shuddering  among  the 
female  spectators ;  and  I  fancied  that  Emily  Rand  (in  the 
crimson  merino)  must  have  been  favorably  impressed.  I 
certainly  made  a  better  appearance  than  Charley,  who 
rushed  through  his  share  of  the  debate  in  the  Roman  Sen 
ate,  in  this  wise,  — 

"Mythoughtslmustconfessareturnedonpeace." 

The  great,  the  auspicious  day  of  Cato  and  of  Rome  came 
to  an  end.  I  said  good-bye  to  the  boys  :  Caruthers  was  go 
ing  off  to  his  carpenter-work,  and  would  not  return.  I  liked 
him  and  was  sorry  to  lose  him.  We  never  met  again,  but 
I  have  since  heard  of  him  as  State  senator  in  a  Western 
capital.  Even  the  dark  eyes  of  Penrose  looked  upon  me 
kindly  as  he  shook  hands,  bestowing  a  side-bow,  as  he  did 
so,  upon  my  mother.  Miss  Hitchcock  gave  me  a  parting 
injunction  of  "  Remember,  Godfrey  !  — Fluxions  and  Cor 
nelius  Nepos  ! "  and  so  we  climbed  into  the  creaking  vehi 
cle  and  set  off  homewards. 

We  might  have  walked  with  much  more  speed  and  com 
fort.  The  horse  took  up  and  put  down  his  feet  as  gently 
as  if  he  were  suffering  from  corns  ;  at  the  least  rise  in  the 
road  he  stopped,  looked  around  at  us,  and  seemed  to  expect 
us  to  alight,  heaving  a  deep  sigh  when  forced  to  resume  his 
march.  Then  he  had  an  insane  desire  of  walking  in  the 
gutter  on  the  left  side  of  the  road,  and  all  my  jerking  of 
the  reins  and  flourishing  of  a  short  dogwood  switch  pro 
duced  not  the  slightest  effect.  He  merely  whisked  his 


46  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

stumpy  tail,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  That  for  you  ! "  We 
reached  the  Cross-Keys  at  last,  long  after  sunset ;  but  the 
abominable  beast,  who  had  been  so  ready  to  stop  anywhere 
on  the  way,  now  utterly  refused  to  be  pulled  up  at  our  gate, 
and  mother  was  obliged  to  ride  on  to  the  bars  at  the  end 
of  Niles's  lane,  before  she  could  get  down.  Our  good 
Neighbor  thereupon  sallied  out  and  took  us  in  to  tea ;  so 
the  end  of  the  journey  was  pleasant. 

The  vacation  came  at  a  fortunate  time.  I  succeeded  in 
getting  our  garden  into  snug  trim  :  the  peas  were  stuck  and 
the  cabbages  set  out  before  my  summer  term  commenced ; 
nor  were  the  studies  neglected  which  I  had  purposed  to 
continue  at  home.  Bob  Simmons  had  finally  left,  and  I 
missed  him  sadly  :  Rand's  great  house,  whither  I  was  now 
privileged  to  go  occasionally,  with  even  the  attraction  of 
Emily,  could  not  fill  up  the  void  left  by  his  departure.  I 
was  not  sorry  when  the  month  drew  to  an  end.  The  little 
cottage  seemed  to  have  grown  strangely  quiet  and  lonely  ; 
my  nest  under  the  roof  lost  its  charm,  except  when  the 
April  rains  played  a  pattering  lullaby  upon  the  shingles ; 
looking  forward  to  Cornelius  Nepos  and  Fluxions,  I  no 
longer  heard  my  mother's  antiquated  stories  with  the  same 
boyish  relish,  and  something  of  this  new  unrest  must  have 
betrayed  itself  in  my  habits.  I  never,  in  fact,  thought  of 
concealing  it  —  never  dreamed  that  my  mind,  in  breaking 
away  from  the  government  of  home  ideas  and  associa 
tions,  could  give  a  pang  to  the  loving  heart,  for  which  I 
was  all,  but  which,  seemingly,  was  not  all  for  me. 

I  returned  to  Dr.  Dymond's  with  the  assured,  confident 
air  of  a  boy  who  knows  the  ground  upon  which  he  stands. 
My  relations  with  the  principal  had  been  agreeable  from 
the  commencement,  and  the  contact  with  ^ny  fellow-stu 
dents  had  long  since  ceased  to  inspire  me  with  shyness  or 
dread.  I  had  many  moderate  friendships  among  them,  but 
was  strongly  attracted  towards  none,  except,  perhaps,  him 
whose  haughty  coldness  repelled  me.  I  was  at  a  loss,  then,  to 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  47 

comprehend  this  magnetism :  now  it  has  ceased  to  be  obscure. 
I  was  impressed,  far  more  powerfully  than  I  suspected,  by 
his  physical  beauty.  Had  those  short,  full,  clearly-cut  lips 
smiled  upon  me,  I  should  not  have  questioned  whether  the 
words  that  came  from  them  were  good  or  evil.  His  influ 
ence  over  me  might  have  been  boundless,  if  he  had  so 
willed  it  —  but  he  did  not.  The  tenderer  shoots  of  feeling 
were  nipped  as  fast  as  they  put  forth.  He  was  always  just 
and  considerate,  and  perhaps  as  communicative  towards 
myself  as  towards  any  of  the  other  boys ;  but  this  was 
far  from  being  a  frank,  cordial  companionship.  His  reti 
cence,  however,  occasionally  impressed  me  as  not  being 
entirely  natural ;  there  was  about  him  an  air  of  some  sad 
premature  experience  of  life. 

Few  of  the  quiet,  studious,  older  pupils  remained  during 
the  summer,  while  there  was  an  accession  of  younger  ones, 
principally  from  Philadelphia.  The  tone  of  our  society 
thus  became  gay  and  lively,  even  romping,  at  times.  I 
was  heartily  fond  of  sport,  and  I  now  gave  myself  up  to  it 
wholly  during  play-hours.  I  was  always  ready  for  a  game 
of  ball  on  the  green  ;  for  a  swim  in  the  shallow  upper  part 
of  Honeybrook  Pond ;  for  an  excursion  to  the  clearings 
where  wild  strawberries  grew  ;  for  —  not  at  first,  I  honestly 
declare,  and  not  without  cowardly  terrors  and  serious 
twinges  of  conscience  —  for  a  midnight  descent  into  the 
cellar,  a  trembling  groping  in  the  dark  until  the  pies  were 
found,  and  then  a  rapid  transfer  of  a  brace  of  them  to  our 
attic.  The  perils  of  the  latter  exploit  made  it  fearfully  at 
tractive.  Had  the  pies  been  of  the  kind  which  we  abomi 
nated,  —  dried-apple,  —  we  should  have  stolen  them  all  the 
same.  Nay,  such  is  the  natural  depravity  of  the  human 
heart,  that  no  pies  were  so  good  (or  ever  have  been  since) 
as  those  which  we  divided  on  the  top  of  a  trunk,  and  ate 
by  moonlight,  sitting  in  our  shirts. 

The  empty  dishes  of  course  told  the  tale,  and  before 
many  days  a  stout  wooden  grating  was  erected  across  the 


48  JOHN    GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

cellar,  in  front  of  the  pastry  shelves.  This  device  merely 
stimulated  our  ingenuity.  Various  plans  were  suggested, 
and  finally  two  of  the  boldest  boys  volunteered  to  descend 
and  test  a  scheme  of  their  own.  They  were  absent  half 
an  hour,  and  we  were  beginning  to  be  more  amused  than 
apprehensive  at  their  stay,  when  they  appeared  with  the 
coveted  pies  in  their  arms.  They  had  secreted  matches 
and  a  bit  of  candle,  found  the  oven-shovel,  and  thrust  it 
through  the  grating,  after  which  it  was  an  easy  matter  to 
reach  the  dish,  withdraw  the  pie  perpendicularly,  and  re 
place  the  dish  on  the  shelf.  I  fancy  Mother  Dymond  must 
have  opened  her  silly  eyes  unusually  wide  the  next  morning. 
The  enemy  now  adopted  a  change  of  tactics  which  came 
near  proving  disastrous.  Thornton  and  myself  were  chosen 
for  the  next  night's  foray.  We  had  safely  descended  the 
stairs  (which  would  creak  tremendously,  however  lightly  you 
stepped),  and  I,  as  the  leader,  commenced  feeling  my  way 
in  the  dark  across  the  dining-room,  when  I  came  unexpect 
edly  upon  a  delicately  piled  pyramid  of  chairs.  I  no  sooner 
touched  the  pile  than  down  it  crashed,  with  the  noise  of  ar 
tillery.  Thornton  whisked  out  of  the  door  and  up-stairs 
like  a  cat,  I  following,  completely  panic-struck.  I  was  none 
too  quick,  for  another  door  suddenly  opened  into  the  pas 
sage  and  the  light  of  a  lamp  struck  vengefully  up  after  us. 
By  this  time  I  had  cleared  the  first  flight,  and  all  that  Dr. 
Dymond  could  have  seen  of  me  was  the  end  of  a  flag  of 
truce  fluttering  across  the  landing-place.  He  gave  chase 
very  nimbly  for  his  years,  but  I  increased  the  advantage 
already  gained,  and  was  over  head  and  ears  in  bed  by  the 
time  he  had  reached  the  attic-floor.  Thornton  was  already 
snoring.  The  Doctor  presently  made  his  appearance  in 
his  dressing-gown,  evidently  rather  puzzled.  He  looked 
from  bed  to  bed,  and  beheld  only  the  innocent  sleep,  knit 
ting  up  the  ravelled  sleave  of  care.  If  he  had  been  familiar 
with  Boccaccio  (a  thing  not  to  be  for  a  moment  suspected), 
he  might  have  tried  the  stratagem  of  King  Agilulf  with 


JOHX   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  49 

triumphant  success.  Even  the  test  which  Lady  Derby  ap 
plied  to  Fenella  might  have  been  sufficient.  I  fancy,  how 
ever,  that  he  felt  silly  in  being  foiled,  and  thought  only  of 
retreating  with  dignity. 

He  finally  broke  silence  by  exclaiming,  in  a  stern  voice, 
"Who  was  it?" 

Bill  Dawson,  who  had  really  been  asleep,  started,  rubbed 
his  eyes,  and  finally  sat  up  in  bed,  looking  red  and  flustered. 
The  Doctor's  face  brightened ;  he  moved  a  step  nearer  to 
Bill,  and  again  asked  :  "  Who  made  the  disturbance  ?  " 

"I  —  I  'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  Bill  stammered :  " I  did 
n't  hear  anything." 

"  You  did  not  hear  ?  There  was  a  dreadful  racket,  sir. 
I  thought  the  house  was  coming  down.  It  roused  me  out 
of  my  sleep  "  (as  if  he  had  not  been  watching  in  the  ad 
joining  room  !  )  "  and  then  I  heard  somebody  running  up 
and  down  stairs.  Take  care,  Dawson ;  this  won't  do." 

Bill  made  a  confused  and  incoherent  protestation  of  in 
nocence,  which  the  Doctor  cut  short  by  exclaiming :  "  Don't 
let  it  happen  again,  sir ! "  and  vanishing  with  his  lamp. 
Whether  he  was  really  so  little  of  a  detective  as  to  suspect 
the  first  boy  whom  his  voice  brought  to  life,  or  merely  made 
use  of  Dawson  as  a  telegraphic  wire  to  transmit  messages 
to  the  rest  of  us,  I  will  not  decide.  At  dinner  the  follow 
ing  day,  and  for  several  succeeding  days,  Bill  was  furnished, 
in  accordance  with  private  instructions  to  the  waiting-maids, 
with  an  immense  slice  of  pie,  which  he  devoured  in  con 
vulsive  haste,  Dr.  Dymond's  sharp  eye  on  him  all  the  time, 
and  Dr.  Dymond's  thumbs  revolving  around  each  other  at 
double  speed.  It  was  great  fun  for  us,  although  it  put  a 
stop  to  our  midnight  excursions  to  the  cellar. 

A  few  weeks  later,  however,  we  found  a  substitute  which 
was  more  innocent,  although  quite  as  irregular.  The 
weather  had  become  very  hot,  and  our  attic  was  so  insuffer 
ably  close  and  sultry  that  we  not  only  kept  the  window  open 
all  night,  but  kicked  off  the  bedclothes.  Frequently  one 


50  JOHN   GODFKEY'S  FORTUNES. 

or  the  other  of  us,  unable  to  sleep,  would  sit  in  the  window 
and  cool  his  heated  body.  And  so  it  happened  one  night, 
when  we  were  all  tossing  restlessly  and  exchanging  lamen 
tations,  that  Thornton's  voice  called  in  to  us  from  the  outer 
air,  "  I  say,  boys,  come  out  here  ;  it 's  grand." 

The  roof  of  the  house  was  but  slightly  pitched,  with  a 
broad  gutter  at  the  bottom.  Thornton  had  stepped  into 
this  and  walked  up  to  the  comb,  where  he  sat  in  his  breezy 
drapery,  leaning  against  a  chimney.  The  prospect  was  so 
tempting  that  all  of  us  who  were  awake  followed  him. 

It  was  a  glorious  summer  night.  The  moon,  steeped  in 
hazy  warmth,  swam  languidly  across  the  deep  violet  sky,  in 
which  only  the  largest  stars  faintly  sparkled.  The  poplar- 
leaves  rocked  to  and  fro  on  their  twisted  stems  and  coun 
terfeited  a  pleasant  breeze,  though  but  the  merest  breath 
of  air  was  stirring.  Stretching  away  to  the  south  and 
southwest,  the  whole  basin  of  the  valley  was  visible,  its 
features  massed  and  balanced  with  a  breadth  and  beauty 
which  the  sun  could  never  give.  The  single  spire  of  Hon- 
eybrook  rose  in  darker  blue  above  the  shimmering  pearly 
gray  of  the  distance,  and  a  streak  of  purest  silver  was 
drawn  across  the  bosom  of  the  pond.  Those  delicate,  vol 
atile  perfumes  of  grass  and  leaves  and  earth  which  are 
only  called  forth  by  night  and  dew,  filled  the  air.  On  such 
a  night,  our  waste  of  beauty  in  the  unconsciousness  of  slum 
ber  seems  little  less  than  sin. 

We  crowded  together,  sitting  on  the  sharp  comb  (which, 
gradually  cutting  into  the  unprotected  flesh,  suggested  the 
advantage  of  being  a  cherub)  or  lying  at  full  length  on  the 
gentle  slope  of  the  roof,  and  unanimously  declared  that  it 
was  better  than  bed.  Our  young  brains  were  warmed  and 
our  fancies  stimulated  by  the  poetic  influences  of  the  night. 
We  wondered  whether  the  moon  was  inhabited,  and  if  so, 
what  sort  of  people  they  were  ;  and  finally,  whether  the 
lunar  school-boys  played  ball,  and  bought  pea-nuts  with 
their  pocket-money,  and  stole  pies. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  51 

"  By  George  ! "  exclaimed  one  of  the  composition-class, 
"  that 's  a  good  idea  !  Next  week,  the  Doctor  says,  we  may 
choose  our  own  subjects  to  write  about.  Now  I  'm  going 
to  write  about  the  inhabitants  of  the  moon,  because,  you 
know,  a  fellow  can  say  just  what  he  pleases,  and  who  's  to 
prove  it  may  n't  be  true  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I  '11  write  a  poem,  or  a  tragedy,  or  something 
of  that  sort,"  said  Brotherton,  sticking  up  one  leg  into  the 
air  as  he  lay  upon  his  back. 

"  What  is  a  tragedy  ?  "  asked  Jones. 

"  Pshaw !  don't  you  know  that  ? "  broke  in  Thornton, 
with  an  air  of  contempt.  "  They  're  played  in  the  theatres. 
I  've  seen  'em.  Where  the  people  get  stabbed,  or  poisoned, 
and  everything  comes  out  dreadful  at  the  end,  it 's  tragedy  ; 
and  where  they  laugh  all  the  time,  and  play  tricks,  and  get 
married,  and  wind  up  comfortable,  it 's  comedy." 

"  But  I  was  at  the  theatre  once,"  said  Brotherton,  "  and 
two  of  them  were  killed,  and  he  and  she  got  married  for 
all  that.  I  tell  you,  she  was  a  beauty !  Now,  what  would 
you  call  that  sort  of  a  play  ?  " 

"  Why,  a  comic  tragedy,  to  be  sure,"  answered  Thornton. 

"  Where  do  the  theatres  get  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  have  men  hired  to  write  them,"  Thornton 
continued,  proud  of  a  chance  to  show  his  superior  knowl 
edge.  "  My  brother  Eustace  told  me  all  about  it.  He  's  a 
lawyer,  and  has  an  office  of  his  own  in  Seventh  Street.  He 
knows  one  of  the  men,  and  I  know  him  too,  but  I  forget 
his  name.  I  was  in  Eustace's  office  one  afternoon  when  he 
came ;  he  had  a  cigar  in  his  mouth  ;  he  was  a  tragedician. 
A  tragedician  's  a  man  that  writes  only  tragedies.  Comedi- 
cians  write  comedies  ;  it 's  great  fun  to  know  them.  They 
can  mimic  anybody  they  choose,  and  change  their  faces  into 
a  hundred  different  shapes." 

"  How  much  do  they  get  paid  for  their  tragedies  ?  "  asked 
the  inquisitive  Jones. 

"  Very  likely  a  hundred  dollars  a  piece,"  I  suggested. 


52  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  A  hundred  dollars  ! "  sneered  Thornton  ;  "  tell  that  to 
the  marines  !  Why,  I  suppose  my  brother  Eustace  could 
write  one  a  day,  —  he  writes  like  a  book,  I  tell  you,  —  and 
he  'd  make  tragedies  quick  enough,  at  that  price.  We  had 
a  boy,  once,  in  father's  store,  that  swept  and  made  fires, 
and  he  went  into  the  theatre  for  a  soldier  in  the  fighting- 
plays,  for  two  dollars  a  week,  —  uniforms  found.  I  should 
think  if  a  regular  tragedician  got  twenty  dollars  a  week, 
he  'd  be  lucky." 

"  Why  don't  your  brother  write  them  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  He  ?  Oh,  he  could  do  it  easy,  but  I  guess  it  is  n't 
exactly  respectable.  A  lawyer,  you  know,  is  as  good  as  any 
man." 

"  Shut  up,  you  little  fool ! "  exclaimed  a  clear,  deep  voice, 
so  good-humored  in  tone  that  we  were  slightly  startled,  not 
immediately  recognizing  Penrose,  who  had  come  up  on  the 
other  side  of  the  dormer-window,  and  was  seated  in  the 
hip  of  the  roof.  His  shirt  was  unbuttoned  and  the  collar 
thrown  back,  revealing  a  noble  neck  and  breast,  and  his 
slender,  symmetrical  legs  shone  in  the  moonlight  like 
golden-tinted  marble.  His  lips  were  parted  in  the  sensu 
ous  delight  of  the  balmy  air-bath,  and  his  eyes  shone  like 
dark  fire  in  the  shadow  of  his  brows.  I  thought  I  had 
never  seen  any  human  being  so  beautiful. 

"  You  forget,  Oliver,"  he  continued,  in  a  kindly  though 
patronizing  tone,  "  that  Shakspeare  was  a  writer  of  trage 
dies." 

"  I  know,  Penrose,"  Thornton  meekly  answered,  "  that 
Shakspeare  was  a  great  man.  His  books  are  in  my 
brother's  library  at  the  office  in  Seventh  Street,  but  I  've 
never  read  any  of  'em.  Eustace  says  I  could  n't  under 
stand  'em  yet." 

"  Nor  he,  either,  I  dare  say,"  Penrose  remarked. 

"  Boys,"  he  added,  after  a  pause,  "  Brotherton  has  had 
an  idea,  and  now  I  've  got  one.  This  is  a  good  time  and 
place  for  selecting  our  themes  for  composition.  We  are  in 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  53 

the  higher  regions  of  the  atmosphere,  and  where  the  air 
expands  I  should  n't  wonder  if  the  brain  expanded  too. 
Moonlight  brings  out  our  thoughts.  Who  'd  have  supposed 
that  Thornton  knew  so  much  about  '  tragedicians '  and 
'  comedicians  '  ?  " 

We  all  laughed,  even  Thornton  himself,  although  he 
was  n't  sure  but  that  Penrose  might  be  "  chaffing  "  him. 
The  latter's  suggestion  was  at  once  taken  up,  and  the 
themes  discussed  and  adopted.  I  believe  mine  was  "  The 
Influence  of  Nature,"  or  something  of  the  kind. 

"  Why  could  n't  we  get  up  a  Fourth-of-July  Celebration 
among  ourselves?  We  have  lots  of  talent,"  Penrose 
further  suggested,  in  a  mocking  tone ;  but  we  took  it  seri 
ously  and  responded  with  great  enthusiasm.  We  appealed 
to  him  as  an  authority  for  the  order  of  exercises,  each  one 
anxious  for  a  prominent  part 

"  It  might  do,  after  all,"  he  said,  reflectively1;  "  they 
usually  arrange  it  so :  —  First,  prayer  ;  that 's  Dr.  Dymond, 
of  course,  always  provided  he  's  willing.  Then,  reading  the 
Declaration ;  we  want  a  clear,  straightforward  reader  for 
that." 

"  You  're  the  very  fellow ! "  exclaimed  Thornton.  We 
all  thought  and  said  the  same  thing. 

"  Well  —  I  should  n't  mind  it  for  once,  —  so  you  don't  ask 
me  to  spout  and  make  pump-handles  of  my  arms.  That 's 
fixed,  we  '11  say.  What 's  next  ?  Song  —  '  The  Star- 
Spangled  Banner,'  of  course ;  hard  to  sing,  but  four  voices 
will  do,  if  we  can  get  no  more.  Then  the  Oration  ;  don't 
all  speak  at  once  !  I  think,  on  the  whole,  Marsh  would  do 
tolerably." 

"  Marsh  is  n't  here,"  Jones  interrupted. 

"  What  if  he  is  n't !  Are  we  to  have  a  school  celebra 
tion,  or  only  a  fi'penny-bit  concern,  got  up  by  this  bare 
legged  committee,  holding  a  secret  session  on  the  Academy 
roof?  Let^ne  alone  till  I  've  finished,  and  then  say  and 
do  what  you  please.  Oration  —  after  that,  recitation  of 


54  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

What-d'-you-call-him's  '  Ode  to  the  American  Eagle ' ;  one 
or  two  more  addresses  —  short  —  to  give  the  other  Daniel 
Websters  a  chance ;  then,  we  ought  to  have  an  original 
poem,  but  who  'd  write  it  ?  " 

This  seemed  to  us  beyond  the  combined  powers  of  the 
school.  We  were  silent,  and  Penrose  continued,  — 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  I  'm  sure.  But  it 's  part  of 
the  regular  programme,  —  no  gentleman's  Fourth  of  July 
complete  without  it.  If  Godfrey  would  try,  perhaps  he 
might  grind  out  something." 

"  Godfrey  ?  "  and  "  Me  ?  "  were  simultaneous  exclama 
tions,  uttered  by  Jones,  Brotherton,  and  myself. 

"Yes,  I  can't  think  of  anybody  else.  You  could  try 
your  hand  at  the  thing,  Godfrey,  and  show  it  to  Dr.  Dy- 
mond.  He  '11  put  a  stopper  on  you  if  you  don't  do  credit 
to  the  school.  There  's  nothing  else  that  I  know  of,  ex 
cept  a  song  to  wind  up  with  ;  '  Old  Hundred '  would  do. 
But  before  anything  more  is  done,  we  must  let  the  rest  of 
the  boys  know  ;  that 's  all  I  've  got  to  say." 

While  the  others  eagerly  entered  into  a  further  discus 
sion  of  the  matter,  I  rolled  over  on  the  roof  and  gave  my 
self  up  to  a  fascinating  reverie  about  the  proposed  poem. 
How  grand,  how  glorious,  I  thought,  if  I  could  really  do 
such  a  thing !  —  if  I  could  imitate,  though  at  a  vast  dis 
tance,  the  majestic  march  of  Barlow's  "  Vision  of  Colum 
bus  " !  "  Marco  Bozzaris  "  I  considered  hopelessly  beyond 
my  powers.  The  temptation  and  the  dread  were  about 
equally  bajanced;  but  the  idea  was  like  a  tropical  sand- 
flea.  It  had  got  under  my  skin,  and  the  attempt  to  dis 
lodge  it  opened  the  germs  of  a  hundred  others.  I  had 
never  seriously  tried  my  hand  at  rhyme,  for  the  school-boy 
doggerel  in  which  "  Honeybrook  "  was  coupled  with  "  funny 
brook  "  and  "  Dymond  "  with  "  priming,"  was  contemptible 
stuff.  I  am  glad  that  the  foregoing  terminations  are  all 
that  I  remember  of  it.  g  \ 

It  was  long  past  midnight  before  the  excitement  sub- 


JOHN    GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  55 

sided.  Two  boys,  who  had  meanwhile  gone  to  sleep  on 
their  backs,  with  their  faces  to  the  moon,  were  aroused, 
and  we  returned  through  the  window.  I  got  into  bed, 
already  linking  "  glory "  with  "  story,"  though  still  trem 
blingly  uncertain  of  my  ability. 

"  Oh,  Penrose,"  I  whispered,  as  I  lay  down  beside  my 
bedfellow,  "  do  you  really  think  I  can  do  it  ?  " 

"  Don't  bother  me  ! "  was  all  the  encouragement  he  gave, 
then  or  afterwards. 

Our  airy  conclaves  were  repeated  nightly,  as  long  as  the 
warm  weather  lasted.  The  boys  in  the  other  rooms  were 
let  into  the  secret,  and  issued  from  their  respective  win 
dows  to  join  us.  I  remember  as  many  as  twenty-five, 
scattered  about  in  various  picturesque  and  sculpturesque 
attitudes.  Dr.  Dymond,  apparently,  did  not  suspect  this 
new  device  :  if  we  sometimes  fell  asleep  over  our  books  in 
the  afternoon,  the  sultry  weather,  of  course,  was  to  blame. 
We  afterwards  learned,  however,  that  we  had  been  once 
or  twice  espied  by  late  travellers  on  the  neighboring  high 
way. 

The  plan  of  our  patriotic  celebration  matured  and  was 
finally  carried  out  in  a  modified  form.  Our  principal  made 
no  objection,  and  accepted  our  programme,  with  a  few 
slight  changes,  such  as  the  substitution  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Langworthy,  of  Honey  brook,  for  himself,  in  the  matter  of 
the  prayer.  There  was  some  competition  in  regard  to  the 
orations,  but  Marsh  justified  Penrose's  judgment  by  pro 
ducing  the  best.  No  one  competed  with  me,  nor  do  I 
believe  that  any  one  supposed  I  would  be  successful.  .  It 
was  a  terrible  task.  I  had  both  ardor  and  ambition,  but 
a  very  limited  vocabulary,  and,  unfortunately,  an  ear  for  the 
cadences  of  poetry  far  in  advance  of  my  power  to  create 
them.  After  trying  the  heroic  and  failing  utterly,  I  at 
last  hit  upon  an  easy  Hemans-y  form  of  verse,  which  I 
soon  learned  to  manage.  I  was  very  well  satisfied  with 
the  result.  It  was  a  glorification  of  the  Revolutionary 


56  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

heroes,  in  eight-line  stanzas,  with  a  refrain,  which  is  the 
only  portion  of  it  I  can  remember, — 

"  Give  honor  to  our  fathers'  name, 

Strike  up  the  glorious  lay : 
Sound  high  for  them  the  trump  of  fame,  — 
'Tis  Freedom's  natal  day!  " 

"  Not  bad,  not  bad,"  said  Dr.  Dymond,  when  he  had  fin 
ished  reading  this  effusion,  and  I  stood  waiting,  with  fast- 
beating  heart,  to  hear  his  decision.  "  *  Great  oaks  from 
little  acorns  grow,'  even  if  the  acorn  is  not  perfectly  round. 
Ha ! "  he  continued,  smiling  at  the  smartness  of  his  own 
remark,  "  the  Academy  has  never  yet  turned  out  a  poet. 
We  have  two  Members  of  Congress  and  several  clergy 
men,  but  we  are  not  yet  represented  in  the  world  of  let 
ters.  It  is  my  rule  to  encourage  native  genius,  not  to 
suppress  it;  so  I'll  give  you  a  chance  this 'time,  Godfrey. 
Mind,  I  don't  say  that  you  are,  or  can  be,  a  genuine  poet ; 
if  it 's  in  you,  it  will  come  out  some  day,  and  when  that  day 
comes,  remember  that  I  did  n't  crush  it  in  the  bud.  These 
verses  are  fair,  —  very  fair,  indeed.  They  might  be  pruned 
to  advantage,  here  and  there,  but  you  can  very  well  repeat 
them  as  they  are,  only  changing  '  was '  into  '  were,'  —  sub 
junctive  mood,  you  know,  —  and  '  them '  into  '  they '  — 
'  did '  understood.  The  line  will  read  so  :  — 
"  '  If  't  were  given  to  us  to  fight  as  they.' 

And,  of  course,  you  must  change  the  rhyme.  '  Diadem ' 
must  come  out:  put  l  ray'  ('of  glory,'  understood),  or 
America  —  poetic  license  of  pronunciation.  I  could  teach 
you  the  laws  which  govern  literary  performances,  but  it  is 
not  included  in  the  design  of  my  school." 

Miss  Hitchcock  would  have  preferred  one  of  the  classic 
metres,  only  I  was  not  far  enough  advanced  to  compre 
hend  them.  She  repeated  to  me  Coleridge's  translation 
of  Schiller's  illustrations  of  hexameter  and  pentameter. 
I  thought  they  must  be  very  fine,  because  I  had  not  the 
least  idea  of  the  meaning. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  57 

When  I  took  the  verses  home  to  mother,  she  thought 
them  almost  as  good  as  "Alcanzor  and  Zayda,"  the  only 
poem  she  knew.  I  was  obliged  to  make  her  an  elegant 
copy,  in  my  best  hand,  which  she  kept  between  the  leaves 
of  the  family  Bible,  and  read  aloud  in  an  old-fashioned 
chant  to  Neighbor  Niles  or  any  other  female  gossip. 

When  the  celebration  came  off,  the  effect  I  produced 
was  flattering.  The  excitement  of  the  occasion  made  my 
declamation  earnest  and  impassioned,  and  the  verdict  of 
the  boys  was  that  it  was  "  prime."  Penrose  merely  nodded 
to  me  when  I  sat  down,  as  if  confirming  the  wisdom  of  his 
own  suggestion.  I  was  obliged  to  be  satisfied  with  what 
ever  praise  the  gesture  implied,  for  I  got  nothing  else. 


58  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

WHICH  BRINGS  A  STERNER  CHANGE  IN  MY  FORTUNES. 

IT  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  I  was  both  proud  and 
vain  of  the  little  distinction  I  had  achieved.  My  pulse 
began  to  flutter  with  coy  expectation  whenever  any  of  the 
boys  mentioned  the  poem,  —  which  happened  several  times 
during  the  two  succeeding  days.  I  was  backward  to  say 
much  about  it  myself,  but  I  dearly  liked  to  hear  others 
talk,  except  when  they  declared,  as  Bill  Dawson  did,  "  Oh, 
he  got  it  out  of  some  book  or  other."  It  was  the  author's 
experience  in  miniature,  —  extravagant  praise,  conceit,  cen 
sure,  exasperation,  indifference. 

Of  course,  I  made  other  and  more  ambitious  essays. 
Several  of  the  boys  caught  the  infection,  and  for  a  fort 
night  the  quantity  of  dislocated  metre,  imperfect  rhyme,  and 
perfect  trash  produced  in  the  Honeybrook  Academy  was 
something  fearful.  Brotherton  attempted  an  epic  on  the 
discovery  of  America,  which  he  called  "  The  Columbine  " ; 
Marsh  wrote  a  long  didactic  and  statistical  poem  on  "  The 
Wonders  of  Astronomy  " ;  while  Jones,  in  whom  none  of 
us  had  previously  detected  the  least  trace  of  sentiment, 
brought  forth,  with  much  labor,  a  lamentable  effusion, 
entitled,  "  The  Deserted  Maiden,"  commencing,  — 

"  He  has  left  me :  oh,  what  sadness, 
What  reflections  fill  my  breast!  " 

Gradually,  however,  the  malady,  like  measles  or  small 
pox,  ran  its  course  and  died  out,  except  in  my  own  case, 
which  threatened  to  become  chronic.  My  progress  in  the 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  59 

graver  studies  was  somewhat  interrupted  thereby,  but  I 
prosecuted  Latin  with  ardor,  tempted  by  the  promise  of 
Virgil,  and  began  to  crave  a  higher  literary  culture.  I  am 
not  sure  but  that  it  was  a  fortunate  accident  which  turned 
my  mind  in  this  direction.  The  course  of  study  at  Honey- 
brook  was  neither  thorough  nor  methodical.  A  piece  of 
knowledge  was  hacked  off  this  or  that  branch,  and  thrown 
to  us  in  lumps.  There  was  a  lack  of  some  solvent  or  as 
similating  element,  to  equalize  our  mental  growth,  and  my 
new  ambition,  to  a  certain  extent,  supplied  the  need. 

A  week  or  so  after  the  Fourth,  three  of  us  had  permis 
sion  to  go  to  Honeybrook  during  the  noon  recess.  My 
errand  was  to  buy  a  lead-pencil  for  three  cents,  and  Thorn 
ton's  to  spend  his  liberal  supply  of  pocket-money  in  pea 
nuts  and  candy,  which  he  generously  shared  with  us.  As 
we  were  returning  up  the  main  street,  we  paused  to  look 
at  a  new  brick  house,  —  an  unusual  sight  in  the  quiet 
village,  —  the  walls  of  which  had  just  reached  the  second 
story.  A  ringing  cry  of  "  Mort ! "  at  the  same  moment 
came  from  an  active  workman,  who  was  running  up  one  of 
the  corners.  I  recognized  the  voice,  and  cried  out  in  great 
joy,  "  Bob !  oh,  Bob,  is  that  you  ?  " 

He  dropped  his  trowel,  drew  his  dusty  sleeve  across  his 
brow  to  clear  his  eyes  from  the  streaming  sweat,  and  looked 
down.  The  dear  old  fellow,  —  what  a  grin  of  genuine  de 
light  spread  over  his  face  !  "  Blast  me  if 't  is  n't  John  !  " 
he  cried.  "  Why,  John,  how  're  you  gettin'  on  ?  " 

"  Oh,  finely,  Bob,"  I  answered ;  "  may  I  come  up  there 
and  shake  hands  with  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  '11  come  down." 

He  was  down  the  gangway  in  three  leaps,  and  gave  me  a 
crushing  grip  of  his  hard,  brick-dusted  hand.  "  I  've  only 
got  a  minute,"  he  said  ;  "  the  boss  is  comin'  up  the  street. 
How  you  Ve  growed  !  and  I  hear  you  're  a  famous  scholar 
already.  Well  —  you  're  at  your  trade,  and  I  'm  at  mine. 
I  like  it  better  'n  I  thought  I  would.  I  can  lay,  and  p'jnt, 


60  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

a,nd  run  up  corners,  right  smart.     That  '$  my  corner  :  is  n't 
it  pretty  tolerable  straight  ?  " 

I  looked   at  it  with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur,  and  re 
marked,  "  It's  very  well  done,  indeed,  Bob." 
'  "  Well,  good-bye.     I  've  got  another  thousand  to  lay  be 
fore  I  knock  off.     Take  care  of  yourself ! " 

He  was  back  on  the  scaffold  in  no  time.  My  two  com 
panions,  standing  beside  me,  had  witnessed  our  interview 
with  curiosity ;  so  I  said,  by  way  of  explanation,  as  we 
moved  on,  "  It 's  Bob  Simmons  ;  he  's  a  first-rate  fellow." 

"  A  relation  of  yours,  Godfrey  ?  "  asked  Thornton,  rather 
impertinently. 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  wish  he  was.  I  have  no  relations  except 
mother,  and  my  uncle  and  aunt  in  Reading." 

"  I  've  got  lots,"  Thornton  asserted.  "  Six  —  no,  five 
uncles  and  six  aunts,  and  no  end  of  cousins.  I  don't  think 
a  fellow  's  worth  much  that  has  n't  got  relations.  Where 
are  you  going  to  get  your  money  if  they  don't  leave  it  to 
you?" 

"  I  must  earn  mine,"  I  said,  though,  I  am  ashamed  to 
say,  with  a  secret  feeling  of  humiliation,  as  I  contrasted  my 
dependence  with  Thornton's  assured  position. 

"  Earn  ?  "  sneered  Thornton.  "  You  '11  be  no  better  than 
that  bricklayer.  Catch  me  earning  the  money  I  spend ; 
I  'm  going  to  be  a  gentleman  !  " 

I  might  here  pause  in  the  reminiscences  of  my  school 
days,  and  point  a  moral  from  poor  Thornton's  after-fate,  — 
but  to  what  end  ?  Some  destinies  are  congenital,  and  cut 
their  way  straight  through  all  the  circumstances  of  life  : 
their  end  is  involved  in  their  beginning.  Let  me  remem 
ber  only  the  blooming  face,  the  laughing  eyes,  and  the 
sunny  locks,  nor  imagine  that  later  picture,  which,  thank 
God  !  /  did  not  see. 

Thornton  did  not  fail  to  describe  my  interview  with  Bob, 
with  his  own  embellishments,  after  our  return ;  and  some 
of  the  boys,  seeing  that  I  was  annoyed,  tormented  me  with 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  61 

ironical  references  to  my  friend.  The  annoyance  was  less, 
however,  than  it  would  have  been  in  a  more  aristocratic 
school,  for  we  had  not  only  the  sons  of  farmers,  but  some 
times  actual  mechanics,  among  us.  It  was  rumored,  in 
deed,  that  Dr.  Dymond,  now  an  LL.  D.  of  the  Lackawanna 
University,  had  commenced  life  as  a  chair-maker  in  Con 
necticut. 

So  my  school-life  went  on.  The  summer  passed  away, 
and  the  autumn,  and  the  second  winter.  My  mental 
growth  was  so  evident,  that,  although  the  expenses  of  the 
school  proved  to  be  considerably  more  than  had  been 
estimated,  my  mother  could  not  think  of  abridging  the  full 
time  she  had  assigned  to  my  studies.  The  money  was 
forthcoming,  and  she  refused  to  tell  me  whence  it  came. 
"  You  shall  help  me  to  pay  it  back,  Johnny,"  was  all  she 
would  say. 

I  believed,  at  least,  that  she  was  not  overtasking  her  own 
strength  in  the  effort  to  earn  it.  There  was  but  limited 
employment  for  her  needle  in  so  insignificant  a  place  as 
the  Cross-Keys,  and  she  was,  moreover,  unable  at  this  time 
to  do  as  much  as  formerly.  The  bright  color,  I  could  not 
help  noticing,  had  faded  from  her  face,  and  was  replaced 
by  a  livid,  waxen  hue ;  thick  streaks  of  gray  appeared  in 
her  dark  puffs,  and  her  round  forehead,  once  so  smooth, 
began  to  show  lines  which  hinted  at  concealed  suffering. 
She  confessed,  indeed,  that  she  had  "jjpells  of  weakness " 
now  and  then  ;  "  but,"  she  added,  withfc  smile  which  reas 
sured  me,  "it's  nothing  more  than  I've  been  expecting. 
We  old  people  are  subject  to  such  things.  There  's  Neigh 
bor  Niles,  now,  —  to  hear  her  talk,  you  would  think  she 
never  had  a  well  day  in  her  life,  yet  what  a  deal  of  work 
she  does ! " 

This  was  true.  Our  good  neighbor  was  never  free  from 
some  kind  of  "  misery,"  as  she  expressively  termed  it.  One 
day  she  would  have  it  in  the  small  of  the  back ;  then  it 
would  mount  to  a  spot  between  the  shoulder-blades  ;  next, 


62  JOHX  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

perhaps,  she  would  find  it  in  her  legs,  or  elbows,  or  even 
on  the  top  of  her  head.  After  a  day  of  hard  scrubbing, 
s.he  would  rim  over  to  our  cottage,  drop  into  mother's  rock 
ing-chair,  and  exclaim,  "  I  feel  powerful  weak ;  the  mis 
ery  's  just  got  into  every  bone  o'  my  body." 

Thus,  though  at  times  I  noticed  with  apprehension  the 
change  in  my  mother's  appearance,  the  feeling  was  speedily 
dismissed.  My  own  prospects  were  so  secure,  so  glowing, 
that  any  shadow  of  unwelcome  change  took  from  them  an 
illuminated  edge  as  it  approached.  But  there  came,  in  the 
beginning  of  summer,  one  Sunday,  when  a  strange,  restless 
spirit  seemed  to  have  entered  the  cottage.  Every  incident 
of  that  day  is  burned  upon  my  memory  in  characters  so 
legible  that  to  recall  them  brings  back  my  own  uncompre- 
hended  pain.  The  day  was  hot  and  cloudless  :  every  plant, 
bush,  and  tree  rejoiced  in  the  perfect  beauty  of  its  new 
foliage.  The  air  was  filled,  not  with  any  distinct  fragrance, 
but  with  a  soft,  all-pervading  smell  of  life.  Bees  were 
everywhere, — in  the  locust-blossoms,  in  the  starry  tulip- 
trees,  on  the  opening  pinks  and  sweet-williams  of  the  gar 
den  ;  and  the  cat-bird  sang  from  a  bursting  throat,  on  his 
perch  among  the  reddening  mayduke  cherries.  The  har 
mony  of  such  a  day  is  so  exquisite  that  the  discord  of  a 
mood  which  cannot  receive  and  become  a  portion  of  it  is  a 
torture  scarcely  to  be  borne. 

This  torture  I  firs!  endured  on  that  day.  TVhat  I  feared 
—  whether,  in  fact,  Wdid  fear  —  I  could  not  tell.  A  vague, 
smothering  weight  lay  upon  my  heart,  and,  though  I  could 
not  doubt  that  mother  shared  the  same  intolerable  anxiety, 
it  offered  no  form  sufficiently  tangible  for  expression.  She 
insisted  on  my  reading  from  the  Psalms,  as  usual  when  we 
did  not  go  to  church,  but  interrupted  me  every  few  min 
utes  by  rising  from  her  seat  and  going  into  her  own  room, 
or  the  kitchen,  or  the  garden,  without  any  clear  reason. 
Sometimes  I  caught  her  looking  at  me  with  eyes  that  so 
positively  spoke  that  I  asked,  involuntarily,  "  Mother,  did 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  63 

you  say  anything  ?  "  Then  a  faint  color  would  come  into 
her  face,  which  had  lost  none  of  its  roundness,  so  that  she 
suddenly  seemed  to  be  her  old,  bright,  cheerful  self. 

"  I  believe  I  was  going  to  say  something,  Johnny,"  she 
would  answer,  "  but  it  can't  make  much  odds  what  it  was, 
for  I  Ve  forgotten  it  already." 

As  the  day  wore  on,  her  restlessness  increased.  When 
it  was  necessary  for  her  to  leave  the  room,  on  some  house 
hold  errand,  she  would  call  to  me,  soon  afterwards,  "  John 
ny,  are  you  there  ?  "  or  come  back  to  the  room  in  flushed 
haste,  as  if  fearful  of  some  impending  catastrophe.  She 
prepared  our  tea  with  a  feverish  hurry,  talking  all  the  time 
of  my  hunger  (though  I  had  not  the  least)  and  my  appe 
tite,  and  how  pleasant  it  was  to  have  me  there,  and  how 
she  always  looked  forward  to  Sunday  evening,  and  how 
fast  the  time  had  gone  by,  to  be  sure,  since  I  first  went  to 
Dr.  Dymond's  school,  and  what  progress  I  had  made,  and 
she  wished  she  could  send  me  to  college,  but  it  couldn't 
be,  no,  there  was  no  use  in  thinking  of  it  —  with  such 
earnestness  and  so  many  repetitions  that  I  became  at  last 
quite  confused.  Yet,  when  we  sat  down  to  the  table  she 
became  silent,  and  her  face  resumed  its  waxen  pallor. 

During  the  evening  she  still  talked  about  the  school, 
and  what  I  should  do  the  following  winter,  after  leaving  it. 
"  Perhaps  Dr.  Dymond  might  want  an  assistant,"  she  said  ; 
"  you  're  young,  John,  it 's  true,  but  I  should  think  you 
could  do  as  well  as  Walton,  and  then  you  could  still  study 
between  whiles.  I  would  n't  have  you  mention  it  —  the 
idea  just  came  into  my  head,  that 's  all.  If  you  were  only 
two  years  older !  I  'm  sure  I  'd  keep  you  there  longer  if  I 
could,  but  "— 

"  Don  't  think  of  that,  mother  ! "  I  interrupted  ;  "  we 
really  can't  afford  it." 

"  No,  we  can't,"  she  sighed,  "  not  even  if  I  was  to  give 
up  the  cottage  and  go  somewhere  as  housekeeper.  I  did 
think  of  that,  once,  but  it 's  too  late.  Well,  you  '11  have  the 
two  years  I  promised  you,  Johnny." 


64  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Much  more  she  said  to  the  same  purport,  interrupting 
herself  every  now  and  then  with,  "  Stop,  there  was  some 
thing  else  I  had  «to  say ! "  —  which,  when  recalled,  generally 
proved  to  be  something  already  mentioned. 

When  I  went  to  bed,  I  lay  awake  for  a  long  time,  trying 
to  explain  the  singular  unrest  which  had  come  upon  the 
house.  It  finally  occurred  to  me  that  mother  had  probably 
gotten  into  some  trouble  on  account  of  the  expense  of  my 
schooling.  I  could  hear  her,  in  the  room  below  me,  walk 
ing  about  uneasily,  opening  a»d  shutting  drawers,  talking 
to  herself,  it  seemed.  Once  or  twice  something  like  a 
smothered  groan  reached  my  ear.  I  resolved  that  the  fol 
lowing  Sunday  should  not  go  by  without  my  knowing  to 
what  extent  she  had  drawn  upon  her  resources  for  my 
sake,  and  that  the  drain  should  be  stopped,  even  if  I  had 
to  give  up  the  remainder  of  my  summer  term.  After  con 
gratulating  myself  on  this  heroic  resolution,  I  fell  asleep. 

When  I  came  down  stairs  in  the  morning,  I  found  that 
breakfast  was  already  prepared.  Mother  seemed  to  have 
recovered  from  her  restless,  excited  condition,  but  her  eye 
lids  were  heavy  and  red.  She  confessed  that  she  had 
passed  a  sleepless  night.  When  I  heard  Charley  Rand's 
hail  from  the  road,  I  kissed  her  and  said  good-bye.  She 
returned  my  kiss  silently,  and  went  quietly  into  her  bed 
room  as  I  passed  out  the  door. 

The  vague  weight  at  my  heart  left  me  that  morning,  to 
return  and  torment  me  during  the  next  two  days.  It  was 
but  a  formless  shadow,  —  the  very  ghost  of  a  phantom,  — 
but  it  clung  to  and  dulled  every  operation  of  my  mind, 
muffled  every  beat  of  my  heart. 

Wednesday  evening,  I  recollect,  was  heavy  and  overcast, 
with  a  dead,  stifling  hush  in  the  atmosphere.  The  tension 
of  my  unnatural  mood  was  scarcely  to  be  endured  any 
longer.  Oh,  if  this  be  life,  I  thought,  let  me  finish  it  now  ! 
There  was  not  much  talk  in  our  attic  that  night :  the  other 
boys  tumbled  lazily  into  bed  and  soon  slept.  I  closed  my 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  65 

eyes,  but  no  sleep  came.  The  constriction  about  my  heart 
crept  up  towards  my  throat  and  choked  me.  I  clenched 
my  hands  and  ground  my  teeth ;  the  muscles  of  my  face 
twitched,  and  with  a  spasm  which  shook  me  from  head  to 
foot  and  took  away  my  breath,  I  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears. 
I  hid  my  head  under  the  bedclothes,  and  strove  to  stifle  the 
gasps  that  threatened  to  become  cries  —  to  subdue  the 
violence  of  the  crisis  which  had  seized  me.  Penrose  was 
such  a  quiet  bedfellow  that  I  forgot  his  presence  until  I 
felt  that  he  was  turning  over  towards  me.  Then,  thor 
oughly  alarmed,  I  endeavored  to  lie  still  and  counterfeit 
sleep  :  but  it  was  impossible.  I  could  no  longer  control 
the  sobs  that  shook  my  body. 

Presently  Penrose  stirred  again,  thrust  himself  down  in 
the  bed,  and  I  heard  his  voice  under  the  clothes,  almost  at 
my  ear.  ^ 

"  Godfrey,"  he  whispered,  with  a  tender  earnestness, 
"  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  My  mother  !  "  was  all  the  answer  I  could  make. 

"  Is  she  sick  —  dangerous  ? "  he  whispered  again,  laying 
one  arm  gently  over  my  shoulder.  Its  very  touch  was 
soothing  and  comforting. 

"  I  don't  know,  Penrose,"  I  said  at  last.  "  Something  is 
the  matter,  and  I  don't  know  what  it  is.  Mother  has  a  hard 
time  to  raise  money  for  my  schooling :  I  am  afraid  it  's  too 
hard  for  her.  I  did  n't  mean  to  cry,  but  it  came  all  at  once. 
I  think  I  should  have  died  if  it  had  n't." 

He  drew  me  towards  him  as  if  I  had  been  a  little  child, 
and  laid  my  head  against  his  shoulder.  "  Don't  be  afraid," 
he  then  whispered,  "  no  one  has  heard  you  but  myself.  We 
are  all  so,  at  times.  I  recollect  your  mother  ;  she  is  a  good 
woman ;  she  reminds  me,  somehow,  of  mine." 

My  right  hand  sought  for  Penrose's,  which  it  held  firmly 
clasped,  and  I  lay  thus  until  my  agitation  had  subsided.  A 
grateful  sense  of  sympathy  stole  into  my  heart ;  the  strange 
mist  which  seemed  to  have  gathered,  blotting  out  my  fu- 


66  JOHX  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

ture,  began  to  lift  before  a  breeze  which  blew  from  the 
stronger  nature  beside  me.  At  last,  with  a  final  pressure, 
which  was  answered,  I  released  his  hand  and  turned  to  my 
own  pillow.  Next  morning  he  was  silent  as  ever,  but  his 
silence  no  longer  repelled  or  annoyed  me.  I  was  beginning 
to  learn  that  the  heart  lies  much  deeper  than  the  lips. 

In  the  afternoon  Dr.  Dymond  was  called  into  the  recep 
tion-room.  I  paid  no  attention  to  this  circumstance,  for  it 
was  of  frequent  occurrence,  but  when  he  opened  the  door 
directly  afterwards  and  called  "  Godfrey  !  "  I  started  as  if 
struck.  Penrose  darted  a  glance  of  keen,  questioning  in 
terest  across  the  intervening  desk,  and  I  felt  that  his  eye 
was  following  me  as  I  walked  out  of  the  school-room. 

I  was  quite  surprised  to  find  "  Old  Dave,"  as  we  gener 
ally  called  him,  —  Neighbor  Niles's  husband,  —  waiting  for 
me.  He  was  standing  awkwardly  by  the  table,  hisjDattered 
beaver  still  upon  his  head. 

"  Well,  Johnny,"  said  he,  giving  me  his  hand,  which  felt 
like  a  piece  of  bark  dried  for  tanning,  "  are  you  pretty  well  ? 
I  Ve  come  for  to  fetch  you  home,  because,  you  see  —  well, 
your  mother  —  she  's  ailin'  some,  that  is,  and  so  we  thought 
the  Doctor  here  'd  let  you  off  for  a  day  or  two." 

"  Of  course,  sir,"  Dr.  Dymond  bowed.  "  Godfrey,  this 
gentleman  has  explained  to  me  the  necessity  of  allowing 
you  to  be  absent  for  a  short  time  during  the  term.  I  sin 
cerely  regret  the  occasion  which  calls  for  it.  You  need  not 
return  to  the  school-room.  Good-bye,  for  the  present ! " 

I  took  his  hand  mechanically,  ran  up-stairs  and  brought 
my  little  carpet-bag,  and  was  very  soon  seated  at  Niles's 
side,  bouncing  down  the  lane  in  a  light,  open  wagon. 

"  I  took  the  brown  mare,  you  see,"  he  said,  as  we  turned 
into  the  highway.  "  She  's  too  free  for  the  old  woman  to 
drive,  but  she  knows  my  hand.  This  is  Reanor's  machine : 
he  lent  it  to  me  at  once't.  Rolls  easy,  don't  it  ?  " 

"  But,  Dave  !  "  I  cried,  in  an  agony  of  anxiety,  "  you  have 
not  told  me  what  has  happened  to  mother  !  " 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  67 

He  fidgeted  uneasily  on  his  seat,  addressed  various  re 
marks  to  the  brown  mare,  and  finally,  when  my  patience 
was  almost  exhausted,  said,  in  a  confused  way,  "  Well,  you 
see,  it  has  n't  jist  happened  altogether  now.  'Pears  it 's 
been  comin'  on  a  good  while,  —  a  year  or  two,  maybe 
more.  The  Doctor  says  it  ought  to  ha'  been  done  sooner, 
but  I  don't  wonder  much  if  she  could  n't  make  up  her  mind 
to  it." 

My  distress  increased  with  every  one  of  these  slowly 
drawled,  incoherent  sentences.  "  For  God's  sake,"  I  ex 
claimed,  "  tell  me  what  ails  her !  " 

Dave  started  at  my  vehemence,  and  blurted  out  the 
dreadful  truth  at  once.  "  Cancer !  "  said  he :  "  they  cut  it 
out,  yisterday  —  Dr.  Rankin,  and  Dr.  Lott,  here,  in  Honey- 
brook.  They  say  she  bore  it  oncommon,  but  she  's  mighty 
low,  this  mornin'." 

I  turned  deathly  sick  and  faint.  I  could  not  utter  a  word, 
but  wrung  my  hands  together  and  groaned.  Dave  pulled 
a  small,  flat  bottle  out  of  his  breast-pocket,  drew  the  cork 
with  his  teeth,  and  held  the  mouth  to  my  lips,  saying, 
"  Take  a  s  waller.  You  need  n't  say  anything  about  it  be 
fore  the  old  woman." 

The  fluid  fire  which  went  down  my  throat  partially  re 
stored  me ;  but  the  truth  was  still  too  horrible  to  be  fully 
comprehended.  In  spite  of  the  glowing  June-day,  a  chill 
struck  to  the  marrow  of  my  bones,  as  I  thought  of  my  poor, 
dear  little  mother,  mangled  by  surgeons'  knives,  and  per 
haps  at  that  very  moment  bleeding  to  death.  Then  a  bitter 
feeling  of  rage  and  resistance  took  possession  of  my  heart. 
"  Why  does  God  allow  such  things  ?  "  cried  the  inward 
voice  :  "  why  make  her  suffer  such  tortures,  who  was  always 
so  pure  and  pious,  —  who  never  did  harm  to  a  single  creat 
ure  ?  "  The  mystery  of  the  past  four  days  was  now  clear 
to  me  :  but  how  blind  the  instinct  that  predicted  misfortune 
and  could  not  guess  its  nature  !  If  mother  had  but  told 
me,  or  I  had  not  postponed  the  intended  explanation  !  It 


68  JOHN    GODFREY'S     FORTUNES. 

was  now  too  late  :  I  dared  not  chide  fyer  who  had  endured 
so  fearfully.  If  any  such  thought  arose,  I  asked  pardon  for 
it  of  the  same  God  I  had  accused  a  moment  before.  But 
the  liecording  Angel  does  not  open  his  book  for  the  blind 
words  of  the  young. 

Dave  had  been  talking,  I  suppose,  but  I  was  unconscious 
of  his  words.  Now  that  the  truth  had  been  told,  he  was 
ready  enough  to  give  all  the  particulars,  and  even  attempt, 
in  his  rough  way,  to  administer  consolation. 

"  You  must  n't  take  on  so,"  he  said,  patting  me  on  the 
knee  ;  "  maybe  she  '11  git  well,  after  all.  While  there  's  life 
there  's  hope,  you  know.  Some  has  been  cured  that 
seemed  jist  about  as  bad  as  they  could  be.  The  wust  of 
cancer  is,  it  mostly  comes  back  agin.  It 's  like  Canada 
thistles :  you  may  dig  trenches  round  'em,  and  burn  'em, 
and  chop  the  roots  into  mince-meat,  and  like  as  not  you  've 
got  'em  next  year,  as  thick  as  ever." 

His  words  made  me  shudder.  "Please  go  on  fast, 
Dave,"  I  entreated  ;  "  never  mind  telling  me  any  more  ;  I 
want  to  get  home." 

"  So  do  I,"  he  answered,  urging  the  mare  into  a  rapid 
trot.  "  I  did  n't  much  keer  to  come,  but  there  was  nobody 
else  handy,  and  th'  old  woman  said  you  must  be  fetched, 
right  away." 

As  we  approached  the  cottage,  Neighbor  Niles  came  out 
and  waited  for  us  at  the  gate.  Her  eyes  were  red,  and  they 
began  to  flow  again  when  I  got  down  from  the  wagon. 
She  wiped  them  with  her  apron,  took  me  by  the  hand,  and 
said,  in  a  whisper  louder  than  the  ordinary  voice  of  most 
women,  — 

"  I  '11  go  in  and  tell  her  you  're  here.  Wait  outside  un 
til  I  come  back.  The  Doctor  's  with  her." 

It  was  not  long  before  she  returned,  followed  by  Dr. 
Rankin.  I  knew  him,  from  the  days  of  my  sprained  ankle, 
and  was  passing  him  with  a  hasty  greeting,  when  he  seized 
me  by  the  arm.  "  Control  yourself,  my  boy ! "  said  he ; 
"  she  must  not  be  excited." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  69 

I  walked  into  the  bedroom.  It  was  very  well  to  say, 
"  Control  yourself !  "  but  the  sight  of  my  mother,  with  half- 
closed  eyes,  her  face  as  white  as  the  pillow  beneath  it,  so 
unnerved  me  that  I  sank,  trembling,  upon  the  chair  at  the 
head  of  the  bed,  and  wept  long  and  bitterly.  I  felt  her 
fingers  upon  my  hair  :  "  Poor  boy !  "  she  sighed. 

"  Oh,  mother !  "  I  cried,  "  why  did  n't  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  'T  would  have  done  no  good,  Johnny,"  she  feebly 
answered.  "  I  was  glad  to  know  that  you  were  unconscious 
and  happy  all  the  time.  Besides,  it 's  only  this  spring  that 
I  grew  so  much  worse.  I  tried  to  bear  up,  my  dear  child, 
that  I  might  see  you  started  in  life  ;  but  I  am  afraid  it 's 
not  to  be." 

"  Don't  say  that,  mother.     I  can't  live  without  you." 

"  I  have  lived  ten  years  without  your  father,  child,  —  and 
they  were  not  unhappy  years.  God  does  not  allow  us  to 
grieve  without  ceasing.  You  will  have  some  one  to  love, 
as  I  have  had  you.  You  will  soon  be  a  man,  and  if  I 
should  live,  it  would  be  to  see  some  one  nearer  to  you  than 
I  am.  I  pray  that  you  may  be  happy,  John  ;  but  you  will 
not  forget  your  old  mother.  When  you  have  children  of 
your  own  upon  your  knees,  you  will  talk  to  them  some 
times  —  will  you  not  ?  —  of  the  Grandmother  Godfrey  who 
died  before  she  could  kiss  and  bless  them  for  your  sake  ?  " 

Her  own  tears  flowed  freely  as  she  ceased  to  speak, 
exhausted,  and  paused  to  recover  a  little  strength.  "  I  've 
been  blessed,"  she  said  at  last,  "  and  I  must  not  complain. 
You  've  been  a  good  boy,  Johnny  ;  you  've  been  a  dutiful 
and  affectionate  son  to  me.  You  're  my  joy  and  my  pride 
now,  —  it  can't  be  wrong  for  me  to  take  the  comfort  God 
sends.  There  would  be  light  upon  the  way  I  must  go,  if  I 
knew  that  you  could  feel  some  of  the  resignation  which  I 
have  learned." 

"  Mother,"  I  sobbed,  "  I  can't  be  resigned  to  lose  you.  I 
will  stay  with  you,  and  take  care  of  you.  I  should  never 
have  gone  away  to  school,  —  but  I  thought  only  of  my 
self!" 


70  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

Her  face  was  suddenly  touched  with  a  solemn  beauty, 
and  her  gentle  voice  had  a  sacred  authority  which  I  ac 
cepted  as  if  it  had  truly  spoken  across  the  mysterious  gulf 
which  was  soon  to  separate  us.  "  My  dear  child,"  she  said, 
"  listen  to  me.  I  know  how  you  feel  in  this  moment.  I 
can  foresee  that  you  may  torture  yourself  after  I  am  gone 
with  the  recollection  of  this  or  that  duty  omitted,  of  some 
hasty  word  spoken,  perhaps  some  impatient  thought  which 
merely  passed  through  your  mind.  After  your  father  died, 
I  called  aloud,  in  anguish  and  prayer,  for  his  spirit  to  speak 
down  from  heaven  and  forgive  me  all  things  wherein  I  had 
failed  of  my  duty  towards  him.  But  I  know  now  that  the 
imperfections  of  our  conduct  here  are  not  remembered 
against  us,  if  the  heart  be  faithful  in  its  love.  If  you  were 
ever  undutiful  in  word  or  thought,  the  sun  never  went 
down  and  left  you  unforgiven.  Remember  this,  and  that 
all  I  have  tried  to  do  for  you  has  been  poor  payment  for 
the  blessing  you  have  always  been  to  me  !  " 

Blessed  words,  that  fell  like  balm  on  my  overwhelming 
sorrow !  I  took  them  to  my  heart  and  held  them  there,  as 
if  with  a  presentiment  of  the  precious  consolation  they 
were  thenceforth  to  contain.  I  pressed  her  pale  hand  ten 
derly,  laid  my  cheek  upon  it,  and  was  silent,  for  it  seemed 
to  me  that  an  angel  was  indeed  present  in  the  little  room. 

After  a  while,  Neighbor  Niles  softly  opened  the  door, 
drew  near,  and  whispered,  "Mr.  Woolley 's  here  —  from 
Readin' ;  —  shall  I  bring  him  in  ?  " 

My  mother  assented. 

I  had  not  seen  my  uncle  for  some  years,  and  retained 
but  an  indistinct  recollection  of  his  appearance.  He  had 
been  sent  for,  early  in  the  morning,  at  my  mother's  urgent 
request,  as  I  afterwards  learned.  When  the  door  opened, 
I  saw  a  portly  figure  advancing  through  the  gathering  dusk 
of  the  room,  bend  over  my  head  towards  my  mother,  and 
say,  in  a  husky  voice,  "  How  do  you  feel,  Barbara  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  weak,"  mother  replied.      "  This  is  John, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  71 

Amos.     John,  shake  hands  with  your  uncle,  and  then  leave 
me  for  a  little  while.     I  have  something  to  say  to  him." 

I  rose.  A  fat  hand  closed  upon  mine,  and  again  I  heard 
the  husky  voice,  "  Well,  really,  as  tall  as  this  ?  I  had  no 
idea,  Barbara." 

I  do  not  know  whether  he  was  aware  of  my  mother's 
condition.  Perhaps  not ;  but  it  was  impossible  for  me,  at 
the  moment,  to  credit  him  with  the  doubt.  To  my  ear,  his 
words  expressed  a  cruel  coldness  and  indifference  ;  and  I 
went  forth  from  the  room  with  a  spark  of  resentment 
already  kindled  in  the  midst  of  my  grief.  I  threw  myself 
into  my  accustomed  seat  by  the  front  window,  and  gave 
myself  up  to  the  gloomy  chaos  of  my  emotions. 

Neighbor  Niles  was  preparing  the  table  for  supper, 
stopping  now  and  then  to  wipe  her  eyes,  and  "sniffling" 
with  a  loud,  spasmodic  noise,  which  drove  me  nearly  to  dis 
traction.  My  excited  nerves  could  not  bear  it.  Once  she 
put  down  a  plate  of  something,  crossed  the  room  to  my 
chair,  and  laid  her  hand  on  my  shoulder.  "Johnny,"  — 
she  began  — 

"  Let  me  be  !  "  I  cried,  fiercely,  turning  away  from  her 
with  a  jerk. 

The  good  woman  burst  into  fresh  tears,  and  instantly 
left  me.  "  Them  's  the  worst,"  I  heard  her  mutter  to  her 
self  ;  "  I  'd  ruther  he  'd  half  break  his  heart  a-cryin'." 
And,  indeed,  I  was  presently  sorry  for  the  rude  way  in 
which  I  had  repelled  her  sympathy,  though  I  could  not 
encourage  her  to  renew  it. 

Supper  was  delayed,  nearly  an  hour,  waiting  for  my 
uncle.  When  he  appeared,  it  was  with  a  grave  and  sol 
emn  countenance.  I  took  my  seat  beside  him  very  reluc 
tantly  :  it  seemed  dreadful  to  me  to  eat  and  drink  while  my 
mother  might  be  dying  in  the  next  room.  Neighbor  Niles, 
however,  would  hear  of  nothing  else.  She  had  already 
lifted  the  tea-pot,  in  her  haste  to  serve  us,  when  my  uncle 
suddenly  bowed  his  head  and  commenced  a  grace.  Neigh- 


72  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

bor  Niles  was  so  confused  that  she  stood  with  the  tea-pot 
suspended  in  the  air  until  he  had  finished.  I,  who  with 
difficulty  swallowed  a  little  tea,  was  shocked  at  the  appetite 
he  displayed,  forgetting  that  he  was  human,  and  that  it  was 
a  long  drive  from  Reading. 

"  I  am  afraid,  John,"  he  finally  said,  "  that  the  Lord  is 
about  to  chasten  you.  It  is  some  comfort  to  know  that 
your  mother  seems  to  be  in  a  proper  frame  of  mind.  Her 
ways  were  never  the  same  as  mine,  but  it  is  not  too  late, 
even  at  the  eleventh  hour,  to  accept  the  grace  which  is 
freely  offered.  It  is  not  for  me  to  judge,  but  I  am  hopeful 
that  she  will  be  saved.  I  trust  that  you  will  not  delay  to 
choose  the  safe  and  the  narrow  path.  Do  you  love  your 
Saviour  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  —  somewhat  mechanically,  I  fear. 

"  Are  you  willing  to  give  up  everything  and  follow 
Him?" 

"  Uncle  Amos,"  I  said,  "  I  wish  you  would  n't  ask  me 
any  more  questions."  I  left  the  table,  and  stole  quietly 
into  mother's  room.  As  I  was  passing  out  of  the  door  I 
heard  Neighbor  Niles  say,  "  This  is  no  time  to  be  preachin' 
at  the  poor  boy." 

That  night  my  uncle  took  possession  of  my  bed  in  the 
attic.  I  refused  to  sleep,  and  the  considerate  nurse  allowed 
me  to  watch  with  her.  Mother's  condition  seemed  to  be 
stupor  rather  than  healthy  slumber.  There  was  no  recu 
perative  power  left  in  her  system,  and  the  physician  had 
already  declared  that  she  would  not  recover  from  the  shock 
of  the  operation.  He  informed  me,  afterwards,  that  the 
strength  of  her  system  had  been  reduced,  for  years,  by  the 
lack  of  rich  and  nourishing  food,  —  which  circumstance,  if 
it  did  not  create  the  disease,  had  certainly  very  much  accel 
erated  its  progress.  "  She  was  not  a  plant  that  would 
thrive  on  a  poor  soil,"  he  said,  in  his  quaint  way;  "she 
ought  to  have  been  planted  in  fowl  and  venison,  and 
watered  with  Port." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  73 

The  long,  long  night  dragged  away,  and  when  the  black 
mass  of  the  lilac-bush  at  the  window  began  to  glimmer  in 
dusky  green,  and  some  awakening  birds  cheeped  in  the 
branches  of  the  plum-tree,  mother  seemed  to  revive.  I 
was  shocked  to  see,  in  the  wan  light,  how  her  round  cheeks 
had  already  fallen  in,  and  what  a  ghastly  dimness  dwelt  in 
her  dark  eyes.  The  nurse  administered  some  stimulating 
mixture,  smoothed  the  pillow,  and,  obeying  some  tender 
instinct,  left  us  together.  Mother's  eyes  called  me  to  her ; 
I  stooped  down  and  kissed  her  lips'. 

"  John,"  she  said,  "  I  must  tell  you  now,  while  I  have 
strength,  what  your  uncle  and  I  have  agreed  upon.  The 
money,  you  know,  is  in  his  hands,  and  it  is  better  that  he 
should  keep  it  in  trust  until  you  are  of  age.  You  are  to 
stay  at  school  until  the  fall.  I  borrowed  the  money  of 
Mr.  Rand.  There  is  a  mortgage  on  the  house  and  lot,  and 
the  doctors  must  be  paid  :  so  all  will  be  sold,  except  some 
little  things  that  you  may  keep  for  my  sake.  When  you 
leave  school,  your  uncle  will  take  you.  He  says  you  can 
assist  in  his  store  and  learn  something  about  business. 
Your  aunt  Peggy  is  my  sister,  you  know,  and  it  will  be  a 
home  for  you.  I  «ould  n't  bear  to  think  that  you  must  go 
among  strangers.  When  you  're  of  age,  you  '11  have  a 
little  something  to  start  you  in  the  world,  and  if  my  bless 
ing  can  reach  you,  it  will  rest  upon  you  day  and  night." 

The  prospect  of  living  with  my  uncle  was  not  pleasant, 
but  it  seemed  natural  and  proper,  and  not  for  worlds  would 
I  have  deprived  the  dear  suiferer  of  the  comfort  which  sh£ 
drew  from  this  disposition  of  my  fortunes.  She  repeated 
her  words  of  consolation,  in  a  voice  that  grew  fainter  and 
more  broken,  and  then  lay  for  a  long  time  silent,  with  her 
hand  in  mine.  Once  again  she  half  opened  her  eyes,  and, 
while  a  brief,  shadowy  smile  flitted  about  her  lips,  whispered 
«  Johnny ! " 

"  I  am  here,  with  you,  mother,"  I  said,  fondling  the  list 
less  hand. 


74  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

She  did  not  reply :  this  was  the  last  sign  of  conscious 
ness  she  gave.  The  conquered  life  still  lingered,  hour 
after  hour,  as  if  from  the  mere  mechanical  habit  of  the 
bodily  functions.  But  the  delicate  mechanism  moved  more 
and  more  slowly,  and,  before  sunset,  it  had  stopped  forever. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  75 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  WHICH  I  DISCOVER  A  NEW  RELATIVE. 

WHY  should  I  enter  into  all  the  dreary  details  of  the 
funeral  preparations,  —  of  those  black  summer  days,  which 
still  lie,  an  unfaded  blot,  in  the  soft  and  tender  light  of 
resignation  now  shining  over  my  sorrow  ?  I  passed  through 
the  usual  experience  of  one  struck  by  sudden  and  bitter 
calamity :  my  heart  was  chilled  and  benumbed  by  its  inabil 
ity  to  comprehend  the  truth.  My  dull,  silent,  apathetic 
mood  must  have  seemed,  to  the  shallow-judging  neighbors, 
a  want  of  feeling ;  only  Neighbor  Niles  and  her  husband 
guessed  the  truth.  I  saw  men  and  women,  as  trees,  come 
and  go  ;  some  of  them  spoke  to  me,  and  when  I  was  forced 
to  speak  in  turn,  it  was  with  painful  unwillingness.  I 
heard  my  voice,  as  if  it  were  something  apart  from  myself; 
I  even  seemed,  through  some  strange  extraverted  sense,  to 
stand  aside  and  contemplate  my  own  part  in  the  solem 
nities. 

"When  I  look  back,  now,  I  see  a  slender  youth,  dressed 
in  an  ill-fitting  black  suit,  led  through  the  gate  in  the  low 
churchyard  wall  by  my  uncle  Woolley.  It  is  not  myself; 
but  I  feel  at  my  heart  the  numb,  steady  ache  of  his,  which 
shall  outlast  a  sharper  grief.  His  eyes  are  fixed  on  the 
ground,  but  I  know  —  for  I  have  often  been  told  so  —  that 
they  are  like  my  mother's.  His  hair  cannot  be  described 
by  any  other  color  than  dark  auburn,  and  hangs,  long  and 
loose,  over  his  ears;  his  skin  is  fair,  but  very  much 
freckled,  and  his  features,  I  fancy,  would  wear  an  earnest, 
eager  expression  in  any  happier  mood.  I  see  this  boy  as 


76  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

some  mysterious  double  of  mine,  standing,  cold  and  pale, 
beside  the  open  grave  ;  but  the  stupor  of  his  grief  is  harder 
to  bear,  even  in  memory,  than  the  keen  reality  to  which  I 
afterwards  awoke. 

I  let  things  take  their  course,  knowing  that  the  circum 
stances  of  my  immediate  future  were  already  arranged. 
My  uncle  Woolley,  as  my  guardian  and  the  executor  of  my 
mother's  little  estate,  assumed,  without  consulting  me,  the 
disposal  of  the  cottage  and  furniture,  Mr.  Rand  purchased 
the  former,  as  a  convenient  tenant-house  for  some  of  his 
farm-hands,  and  the  latter,  with  the  exception  of  mother's 
rocking-chair,  which  she  bequeathed  to  Neighbor  Niles,  was 
sold  at  auction.  This,  however,  took  place  after  my  return 
to  the  school,  and  I  was  spared  the  pain  of  seeing  my  home 
broken  to  pieces  and  its  fragments  scattered  to  the  winds. 
My  uncle  probably  gave  me  less  credit  for  a  practical  com 
prehension  of  the  matter  than  I  really  deserved.  His  first 
conversation  with  me  had  been  unfortunate,  both  in  point 
of  time  and  subject,  and  neither  of  us,  I  suspect,  felt  in 
clined,  just  then,  to  renew  the  attempt  at  an  intimacy  befit 
ting  our  mutual  relation. 

In  a  few  days  I  found  myself  back  again  at  Honeybrook 
Academy.  The  return  was  a  relief,  in  every  way.  The 
knowledge  of  my  bereavement  had,  of  course,  preceded  me, 
and  I  was  received  with  the  half-reverential  kindness  which 
any  pack  of  boys,  however  rough  and  thoughtless,  will  never 
fail  to  accord,  in  like  circumstances.  Miss  Hitchcock,  it  is 
true,  gave  me  a  moment's  exasperation  by  her  awkward  at 
tempt  at  condolence,  quoting  the  hackneyed  "  pallida  mors" 
&c.,  but  Mother  Dymond  actually  dropped  a  few  tears  from 
her  silly  eyes  as  she  said,  "  I  'm  so  sorry,  Godfrey ;  I  quite 
took  to  her  that  time  she  was  here." 

Penrose  met  me  with  a  long,  silent  pressure  of  the  hand, 
and  the  stolid  calm  with  which  I  had  heard  the  others 
melted  for  the  first  time.  My  eyes  grew  suddenly  dim,  and 
I  turned  away. 


4  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  77 

I  had  already  profited  by  nearly  two  years'  experience  of 
human  nature,  or,  rather,  boy-nature,  and  was  careful  not 
to  let  my  knowledge  of  his  sympathy  lead  me  into  advances 
which  might,  notwithstanding  all  that  had  happened,  be 
repelled.  I  had  a  presentiment  that  he  esteemed  me  be 
cause  I  imitated  his  own  reticence,  and  that  he  was  sus 
picious  of  any  intimacy  which  did  not  proceed  from  himself. 
In  spite  of  his  beauty,  which  seemed  to  be  dimly  felt  and 
respected  by  the  whole  school,  and  the  tender  spot  in  my 
heart,  kindling  anew  whenever  I  recalled  the  night  he  had 
taken  me  to  his  breast,  I  was  not  sure  that  I  could  wholly 
like  and  trust  him  —  could  ever  feel  for  him  the  same  open, 
unquestioning  affection  which  I  bestowed,  for  example,  on 
Bob  Simmons. 

In  my  studies  I  obtained,  at  least,  a  temporary  release 
from  sorrow.  ,  The  boys  found  it  natural  that  I  should  not 
join  in  the  sports  of  play-hours,  or  the  wild,  stolen  expedi 
tions  in  which  I  had  formerly  taken  delight.  When  I  closed 
my  Lempriere  and  Leverett,  I  wandered  off  to  the  nearest 
bit  of  woodland,  flung  myself  on  the  brown  moss  under 
some  beech-tree,  and  listened  idly  to  the  tapping  of  the 
woodpecker,  or  the  rustle  of  squirrels  through  the  fallen 
leaves. 

There  was  a  little  shaded  dell,  in  particular,  which  was 
my  favorite  haunt.  A  branch  of  Cat  Creek  (as  the  stream 
in  the  valley  was  called)  ran  through  it,  murmuring  gently 
over  stones  and  dead  tree-trunks.  Here,  in  moist  spots, 
the  trillium  hung  its  crimson,  bell-like  fruit  under  the  hori 
zontal  roof  of  its  three  broad  leaves,  and  the  orange  orchis 
shot  up  feathery  spikes  of  flowers,  bright  as  the  breast  of 
an  oriole.  In  the  thickest  shade  of  this  dell,  a  large  tree 
had  fallen  across  the  stream  from  bank  to  bank,  above  a 
dark,  glassy  trout-pool.  One  crooked  branch,  rising  in  the 
middle,  formed  the  back  of  a  rough  natural  chair ;  and  hither 
I  came  habitually,  bringing  some  work  borrowed  from  Dr. 
Dymond's  library.  I  remember  reading  there  Mrs.  He- 


78  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

mans's  "  Forest  Sanctuary,"  with  a  delight  which,  alas  !  the 
poem  can  never  give  again,  even  with  such  accessories. 

One  day  I  was  startled  from  my  book  by  hearing  the 
dead  twigs  on  the  higher  bank  snap  under  the  step  of  some 
one  descending  into  the  glen.  I  looked  up  and  saw  Pen- 
rose  coming  leisurely  down,  cutting  now  and  then  at  a  wood- 
moth  or  dragon-fly  with  a  switch  of  leather-wood.  Almost 
at  the  same  moment  he  espied  me. 

"  Hallo,  Godfrey  !  Are  you  there  ?  "  he  said,  turning 
towards  my  perch.  "  You  show  a  romantic  taste,  upon  my 
word !  " 

The  irony,  if  he  meant  it  for  such,  went  no  further.  The 
mocking  smile  vanished  from  his  lips,  and  his  face  became 
^rave  as  he  sprang  upon  the  log  and  took  a  seat  carelessly 
against  the  roots.  For  a  minute  he  bent  forward  and  looked 
down  into  the  glassy  basin. 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  he,  suddenly,  striking  the  water  with  his 
switch,  so  that  it  seemed  to  snap  like  the  splitting  of  a  real 
mirror,  —  "  only  my  own  face  !  I  'm  no  Narcissus." 

"  You  could  n't  change  into  a  flower,  with  your  complex 
ion,  anyhow,"  I  remarked. 

"  Curse  my  complexion  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  it 's  a  kind 
that  brings  bad  blood,  —  my  father  has  it,  too  !  " 

I  was  rather  startled  at  this  outbreak,  and  said  nothing. 
He,  too,  seemed  to  become  conscious  of  his  vehemence. 
"  Godfrey,"  he  asked,  "  do  you  remember  your  father  ? 
What  kind  of  a  man  was  he  ?  "  ^ 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  "  I  remember  him  very  well.  I  was 
eight  years  old  when  he  died.  He  was  quiet  and  steady. 
I  can't  recall  many  things  that  he  said ;  but  as  good 
and  honest  a  man  as  ever  lived,  I  believe.  If  he  had  n't 
been,  mother  could  n't  have  loved  him  so,  to  the  very  end 
of  her  life." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  he  said,  after  a  pause,  as  if 
speaking  to  himself;  "  there  are  such  men.  I  'm  sorry  you 
lost  your  mother,  —  no  need  to  tell  you  that.  You  're  go- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  79 

ing  to  leave  school  at  the  end  of  the  term.  Where  will 
you  go  ?  You  have  other  relations,  of  course  ?  " 

Encouraged  by  the  interest  which  Penrose  showed  in  my 
condition,  I  related  to  him  what  had  been  decided  upon  by 
my  mother  and  my  uncle,  without  concealing  the  unfavora 
ble  impression  which  the  latter  had  made  upon  me,  or  my 
distaste  at  the  prospect  before  me. 

"  But  you  must  have  other  aunts  and  uncles,"  he  said, 
"  or  relatives  a  little  further  off.  On  your  father's  side,  for 
instance  ? " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  I  answered ;  "  but  they  never  visited 
mother,  and  I  shall  not  hunt  them  up  now.  Aunt  Peggy  is 
mother's  only  living  sister.  Grandfather  Hatzfeld  had  a 
son,  —  my  uncle  John,  after  whom  I  was  named,  —  but  he 
never  married,  and  died  long  ago." 

"  Hatzfeld  ?     Was  your  mother's  name  Hatzfeld  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

Penrose  relapsed  into  a  fit  of  silence.  "  It  would  be 
strange,"  he  said  to  himself ;  then,  lifting  his  head,  asked  : 

"  Had  your  grandfather  Hatzfeld  brothers  and  sisters  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  Aunt  Christina  was  his  sister :  she  left  mother 
our  little  place  at  the  Cross-Keys  when  she  died.  Now,  I 
recollect,  I  have  heard  mother  speak  of  another  aunt,  Anna, 
who  married  and  settled  somewhere  in  New  Jersey ;  I  for 
get  her  name,  —  it  began  with  D.  Grandfather  had  an 
older  brother,  too,  but  I  think  he  went  to  Ohio.  Mother 
never  talked  much  about  him :  he  did  n't  act  fairly  towards 
grandfather." 

"  D  ?  "  asked  Penrose,  with  a  curious  interest.  "  Would 
you  know  the  name  if  you  were  to  hear  it  ?  Was  it  Den 
ning  ? " 

"  Yes,  that 's  it !  "  I  exclaimed ;  "  why,  how  could  you 
guess  "  — 

"  Because  Anna  Denning  was  my  grandmother  —  my 
mother's  mother  !  When  you  mentioned  the  name  of  Hatz 
feld,  it  all  came  into  my  mind  at  once.  Why,  Godfrey, 


80  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

your  mother  and  mine  were  first  cousins,  —  we  are  cousins, 
therefore  ! " 

He  sat  upright  on  the  log  and  stretched  out  his  hand, 
which  I  took  and  held.  "  Penrose  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  can  it 
be  possible  ?  " 

"  Plain  as  a  pike-staff." 

"  Oh,  are  you  serious,  Penrose  ?    I  can  hardly  believe  it." 

I  still  held  his  hand,  as  if  the  newly-found  relationship 
might  slip  away  on  releasing  it.  The  old  mocking  light 
came  into  his  eyes. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  show  the  strawberry-mark  on  my 
left  arm  ?  "  he  asked  ;  "  or  a  mole  on  my  breast,  with  three 
long  black  hairs  growing  out  of  it  ?  Cousins  are  plenty, 
and  you  may  n't  thank  me  for  the  discovery." 

"  I  am  so  glad  ! "  I  cried ;  "  I  have  no  cousin  :  it  is  the 
next  thing  to  a  brother ! " 

His  face  softened  again.  "  You  're  a  good  fellow,  God 
frey,"  said  he,  "  or  Cousin  John,  if  you  like  that  better. 
Call  me  Alexander,  if  you  choose.  Since  it  is  so,  I  wish  I 
had  known  it  sooner." 

"  If  my  poor  mother  could  have  known  it !  "  I  sighed. 

"  That 's  it !  "  he  exclaimed,  —  "  the  family  likeness  be 
tween  your  mother  and  mine.  It  puzzled  me  when  I  saw 
her.  My  mother  has  been  dead  three  years,  and  there  's 
a  —  I  won't  say  what  —  in  her  place.  As  you  're  one  of 
the  family  now,  Godfrey,  you  may  as  well  learn  it  from  me 
as  from  some  one  else,  later.  My  father  and  mother  did  n't 
live  happily  together ;  but  it  was  not  her  fault.  While  she 
lived,  my  sister  and  I  had  some  comfort  at  home ;  she  has 

it  yet,  for  that  matter,  but  I There  's  no  use  in  going 

over  the  story,  except  this  much :  it  was  n't  six  months  after 
my  mother's  death  before  my  father  married  again.  Mar 
ried  whom,  do  you  think  ?  His  cook !  —  a  vulgar,  brazen 
wench,  who  sits  down  to  the  table  in  the  silks  and  laces  of 
the  dead!  And  worse  than  that,  —  the  marriage  brought 
shame  with  it,  —  if  you  can't  guess  what  that  means,  now, 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  81 

you  '11  find  out  after  a  while ;  don't  ask  me  to  say  anything 
more  !  I  am  as  proud  as  my  mother  was,  and  do  you  think 
I  could  forgive  my  father  this,  even  if  he  had  not  always 
treated  me  like  a  brute  ? " 

Penrose's  eyes  flashed  through  the  indignant  moisture 
which  gathered  in  them.  The  warm  olive  of  his  skin  had 

o 

turned  to  a  livid  paleness,  and  his  features  were  hard  and 
cruel.  I  was  almost  afraid  of  him. 

"  He  to  demand  of  me  that  I  should  call  her  <  mother ' ! " 
he  broke  out  again,  his  lip  quivering,  but  not  with  tender 
ness,  —  "  it  was  forbearance  enough  that  I  did  not  give  her 
the  name  she  deserved  !  And  my  sister,  —  but  I  suppose 
she  is  like  most  women,  bent  in  any  direction  by  anybody 
stronger  than  themselves.  She  stays  at  home,  —  no,  not  at 
home,  but  with  them,  —  and  writes  me  letters  full  of  very 
good  advice.  Oh,  yes,  she  's  a  miracle  of  wisdom  !  She  's 
a  young  lady  of  twenty-one,  and  —  and  —  The  Cook  finds 
it  very  convenient  to  learn  fashionable  airs  of  her,  and  how 
to  eat,  and  to  enter  a  room,  and  hold  her  fan,  and  talk  with 
out  yelling  as  if  at  the  house-maid,  and  all  the  rest  of  their 
damnable  folly  !  There  !  How  do  you  like  being  related 
to  such  a  pleasant  family  as  that  ?  " 

I  tried  to  stay  the  flood  of  bitterness,  which  revealed  to 
me  a  fate  even  more  desolate  than  my  own.  "  Penrose,"  I 
said,  —  "  Cousin  Alexander,  you  are  so  strong  and  brave, 
you  can  make  your  own  way  in  the  world,  without  their 
help.  I  'm  less  able  than  you,  yet  I  must  do  it.  I  don't 
know  why  God  allows  some  things  to  happen,  unless  it 's  to 
try  us." 

"None  of  that!"  he  cried,  though  less  passionately; 
"  I  've  worried  my  brain  enough,  thinking  of  it.  I  've 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  most  men  are  mean,  contemp 
tible  creatures,  and  their  good  or  bad  opinion  is  n't  worth 
a  curse.  If  I  take  care  of  myself  and  don't  sink  down 
among  the  lowest,  I  shall  be  counted  honest,  and  virtuous, 
and  the  Lord  knows  what ;  but  I  sometimes  think  that,  if 
6 


82  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

there  are  such  things  as  honesty  and  virtue,  we  must  look 
for  them  among  the  dregs  of  society.  The  top,  I  know,  is 
nothing  but  a  stinking  scum." 

1 1  was  both  pained  and  shocked  at  the  cynicism  of  these 
utterances,  so  harshly  discordant  with  the  youth  and  the  glo 
rious  physical  advantages  of  my  cousin.  Yes  !  the  moment 
the  new  relation  between  us  was  discovered  and  accepted, 
it  established  the  bond  which  I  felt  to  be  both  natural  and 
welcome.  It  interpreted  the  previous  sensation  which  he 
had  excited  in  my  nature.  Some  secret  sympathy  had 
bent,  like  the  hazel  wand  in  the  hand  of  the  diviner,  to 
the  hidden  rill  of  blood.  But  the  kinship  of  blood  is  not 
always  that  of  the  heart.  "A  friend  is  closer  than  a 
brother,"  say  the  Proverbs;  I  did  not  feel  sure  that  he 
could  be  the  friend  I  needed  and  craved,  but  cousinship 
was  a  familiar  and  affectionate  tie,  existing  without  our  vo 
lition,  justifying  a  certain  amount  of  reciprocal  interest, 
and  binding  neither  to  duties  which  time  and  the  changes 
of  life  might  render  embarrassing.  The  confidence  which 
Penrose  had  reposed  in  me  came,  therefore,  in  some  de 
gree,  as  the  right  of  my  relationship.  I  had  paid  for  it,  in 
advance,  by  my  own. 

Hence  I  was  saved,  on  the  one  hand,  from  being  drawn, 
during  the  warm,  confiding  outset  of  life,  into  a  sneering 
philosophy,  which  I  might  never  have  outgrown,  and  on  the 
other  hand,  from  judging  too  harshly  of  Penrose's  inherent 
character.  It  would  do  no  good  at  present,  I  saw,  to  pro 
test  against  his  expressions  ;  so  I  merely  said,  — 

"  You  know  more  of  the  world  than  I  do,  Alexander ; 
but  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk  in  that  strain." 

"  Perhaps  you  're  right,  old  fellow,"  said  he ;  "  any  way, 
I  don't  include  you  among  the  rabble.  I  might  have  held 
my  tongue  about  my  grandmother,  if  I  had  chosen  ;  but  I 
guess  you  and  I  are  not  nearly  enough  related  to  fall  out. 
There  goes  the  bell ;  pick  up  your  Eclogues,  and  come 
along!" 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  83 

We  went  back  to  the  school,  arm  in  arm,  talking  famil 
iarly.  From  that  time  forward  the  recognized,  mysterious 
circle  of  Family  enclosed  us,  and  Penrose's  manner  towards 
me  was  commensurate  with  the  change.  Never  demonstra 
tive,  never  even  positively  affectionate,  he  stood  at  least  on 
level  ground  with  me,  and  there  was  no  wall  between  us. 
The  other  boys,  of  course,  noticed  the  difference  in  our 
relations,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the  inquisitive  Thorn 
ton  said,  — 

"  I  say,  Pen,  how  is  it  that  you  've  got  to  calling  Godfrey 
1  John,'  all  at  once  ?  " 

"  Because  he  is  my  cousin." 

Thornton's  eyes  opened  very  wide.  "  The  devil  he  is ! " 
he  exclaimed.  (Thornton  was  unnecessarily  profane,  be 
cause  he  thought  it  made  him  seem  more  important.) 
"When  did  you  find  that  out?" 

"  It  \s  none  of  your  business,"  said  Penrose,  turning  on 
his  heel.  Thornton  thereupon  went  off,  and  communicated 
the  fact  to  the  whole  school  in  less  than  ten  minutes. 

After  this,  my  cousin  and  I  frequently  walked  out  to  the 
glen  together.  I  was  glad  to  see  that  the  kinship,  so  inex 
pressibly  welcome  to  myself,  was  also  satisfactory  to  him. 
His  first  fragmentary  confidence  was  completed  by  the  de 
tails  of  his  life,  as  he  recalled  them  from  time  to  time ;  but 
his  bitter,  disappointed,  unbelieving  mood  always  came  to 
the  surface,  and  I  began  to  fear  that  it  had  already  prede 
termined  the  character  of  his  after-life. 

One  day,  when  he  had  been  unusually  gloomy  in  his 
utterances,  he  handed  me  a  letter,  saying,  "  Read  that."  It 
was  from  his  sister,  and  ran,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect,  as 
follows :  — 

" Street.  Philadelphia. 

"MY  DEAR  BROTHER,  —  Yours  of  the  10th  is  received. 
I  am  now  so  accustomed  to  your  sarcastic  style,  that  I  al 
ways  know  what  to  expect  when  I  open  one  of  your  epis 
tles.  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  —  well,  I  must  say  our  new 


84  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

cousin,  though  I  am  sorry  you  did  not  let  me  know  of  the 
discovery  before  telling  him.  He  must  be  gauche  and  un 
presentable  in  a  degree ;  but  then,  I  suppose,  there  's  no 
likelihood  of  his  ever  getting  into  our  set.  It  is  time  your 
schooling  was  finished,  so  that  I  might  have  you  for  awhile  as 
my  chevalier.  Between  ourselves,  I  'm  rather  tired  of  going 
about  with  "  (here  the  word  "  Mamma  "  had  evidently  been 
written  and  then  blotted  out) "  Mrs.  Penrose.  Not  but 
what  she  continues  to  improve,  —  only,  I  am  never  certain 
of  her  not  committing  some  niaiserie,  which  quite  puts  me 
out.  However,  she  behaves  well  enough  at  home,  and  I 
hope  you  will  overcome  your  prejudice  in  the  end,  for  my 
sake.  When  you  know  as  much  about  Society  as  I  do,  you 
will  see  that  it 's  always  best  to  smooth  over  what 's  irrev 
ocable.  People  are  beginning  to  forget  the  scandal,  since 
that  affair  of  Denbigh  has  given  them  something  else  to 
talk  about.  We  were  at  Mrs.  Delane's  ball  on  Wednes 
day  ;  I  made  her  put  on  blue  cut  velvet,  and  she  did  not 
look  so  bad.  Mrs.  Vane  nodded,  and  of  course  she  was 
triumphant.  I  think  Papa  gives  me  the  credit  for  all  that 
has  been  done,  —  I  'm  sure  I  deserve  it.  It 's  a  race  be 
tween  Mrs.  P.  and  myself  which  shall  have  the  new  India 
shawl  at  Stokes's ;  but  I  shall  get  it,  because  Mrs.  P.  knows 
that  I  could  teach  her  to  blunder  awfully  as  well  as  to  be 
have  correctly,  and  would  do  it,  in  spite  of  Papa's  swearing, 
if  she  drives  me  to  desperation.  By  the  by,  he  has  just 
come  into  the  room,  and  says,  l  You  are  writing  to  the  cub, 
as  usual,  I  suppose,  Matilda.'  So  there  you  have  him,  to 
the  life." 

There  was  much  more,  in  the  same  style.  I  must  have 
colored,  with  offended  pride,  on  reading  the  opening  lines, 
for  on  looking  up,  involuntarily,  I  saw  my  cousin  smile,  but 
so  frankly  and  pleasantly  that  it  instantly  healed  the  wound 
his  sister  made.  I  confess  the  letter  disgusted  me ;  but  it 
was  written  by  my  own  cousin  also,  and  I  did  not  dare  to 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  85 

express  to  her  brother  what  I  felt.  I  handed  the  letter 
back  to  him  in  silence. 

"  Come  now,  John,"  said  he,  —  "  out  with  the  truth  ! 
Would  you  not  as  lief  be  out  of  our  family  again  ?  " 

"  Not  while  you  are  in  it,  Alexander,"  I  replied. 


86  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN    WHICH   UNCLE    AND    AUNT  WOOLLET   TAKE    CHARGE 
«      OF   ME. 

As  the  close  of  my  last  term  at  the  Honeybrook  Acad 
emy  approached,  I  felt  none  of  the  eagerness  for  change, 
of  the  delight  in  coming  release  from  study,  which  would 
have  been  natural  to  a  boy  of  my  age.  On  the  contrary,  I 
grew  more  and  more  reluctant  to  leave  a  spot  which  was 
now  so  familiar,  and  to  give  up  the  advantages  of  instruc 
tion  at  a  time  when  I  began  to  understand  their  impor 
tance.  Both  Miss  Hitchcock  and  Dr.  Dymond  were  sorry 
to  lose  me,  —  the  former  because  there  was  no  other  Latin 
pupil  far  enough  advanced  to  read  her  expurgated  Horace, 
and  the  latter  because  my  original  dialogues  and  speeches 
were  beginning  to  constitute  a  feature  in  the  semi-annual 
exhibitions.  If,  among  the  boys,  I  had  contracted  no 
strong,  permanent  friendship,  I  had  at  least  encountered 
no  more  than  transient  enmities  ;  besides,  I  was  getting  to 
be  one  of  the  older  and  more  conspicuous  scholars,  and 
thus  enjoyed  a  certain  amount  of  authority. 

It  was  hardest  of  all  to  part  with  Penrose.  I  could  talk 
with  him  of  my  mother,  —  could  ask  his  counsel,  as  a  rela 
tive,  in  regard  to  my  proposed  plans  of  life.  The  latter  were 
still  indefinite,  it  is  true ;  but  they  pointed  towards  teaching 
as  a  preliminary  employment.  Behind  that  crowded  a 
host  of  ambitious  dreams,  upon  which  I  secretly  fed  my 
mind.  Penrose,  however,  was  to  leave  the  school  in  the 
spring,  and  I  should  therefore  have  lost  him  six  months 
later,  in  any  case. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  87 

On  the  last  Sabbath  before  my  departure,  I  walked  over 
to  the  Cross-Keys,  and  spent  the  day  with  the  Niles  family. 
The  shutters  of  the  little  cottage  were  still  closed;  I  was 
glad  of  it.  If  strange  faces  had  gazed  from  the  windows,  I 
should  have  passed  with  averted  head ;  but  I  could  now 
stop  and  look  over  the  paling,  and  peer  under  the  boughs 
of  the  plum-tree  for  a  glimpse  of  the  garden  in  the  rear. 
Weeds  were  growing  apace,  and  in  the  narrow  strip  of  the 
"  front  yard  "  I  missed  a  dainty  little  rose-bush  —  mother's 
pet  —  which  used  to  be  covered  with  diminutive  double 
crimson  blossoms.  Neighbor  Niles  always  called  it  the 
"  fi'penny-bit  rose."  I  afterwards  found  it  in  the  church 
yard,  so  carefully  transplanted  that  it  was  already  blooming 
on  mother's  grave.  It  was  not  necessary  to  ask  whose 
pious  hand  had  placed  it  there. 

The  good  Neighbor  and  "  Dave  "  gave  me  an  honest  and 
hearty  welcome.  She  insisted  on  opening  the  best  room, 
though  I  would  have  preferred  the  kitchen,  where  I  could 
hear  her  cheery  voice  alternately  from  the  vicinity  of  cook- 
stove,  cupboard,  and  table.  For  dinner  we  had  the  plain, 
yet  most  bountiful  fare  of  the  country,  and  she  heaped  my 
plate  far  beyond  my  powers  of  eating,  saying,  with  every 
added  spoonful,  "  I  expect  you  're  half  starved  at  the 
school." 

"  Dr.  Dymond  does  n't  look  as  if  he  ett  much,  anyhow," 
Dave  remarked,  with  a  chuckle. 

"  It  seems  quite  nateral  to  have  you  here  ag'in,  Johnny," 
said  the  Neighbor.  "  Dear  me  !  to  think  how  things  has 
changed  in  the  last  two  year.  Poor  Neighbor  Godfrey  !  — 
as  good  a  woman  as  ever  lived,  though  1  say  it  to  your  face, 
—  dead  and  gone,  and  you  movin'  away  to  Eeadin',  like  as 
not  never  to  come  back  ag'in.  Well,  you  must  n't  forgit 
your  old  neighbors,  them  that  's  always  wished  you  well. 
Out  of  sight  out  of  mind,  they  say ;  but  I  guess  it  don't  hold 
true  with  everybody,  —  leastways  not  with  me.  I  can't 
git  over  thinkin'  about  Becky  Jane  yit :  it  comes  on  to  me 


88  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

powerful  hard  sometimes.  She  'd  ha'  been  sixteen  last 
August,  if  she  'd  ha'  lived.  I  often  go  up  and  scrub  off  her 
tombstone,  and  scrape  the  rust  out  o'  the  letters." 

"  Oh,  Neighbor  Niles  ! "  I  cried,  "  you  asked  me  once  to 
write  a  few  lines  to  put  on  the  stone.  I  '11  do  it  yet,  before 
I  leave." 

The  good  woman's  face  glowed  with  gratitude.  "  I  '11 
see  that  it 's  put  on  —  whatever  you  write,"  she  said,  "  if  it 
takes  the  vally  of  every  turkey  I  've  raised !  " 

I  kept  my  promise.  Four  lines,  containing  a  simile 
about  a  broken  flower  being  laid  beneath  this  sod,  to  bloom 
above  in  the  garden  of  God,  were  sent  to  Neighbor  Niles, 
and  whoever  takes  the  trouble  to  visit  Cross-Keys  church 
yard  will  find  them  on  Becky  Jane's  tombstone  to  this 
day. 

It  was  some  twenty  miles  to  Reading,  and  accordingly, 
on  the  day  after  the  closing  exhibition  at  the  academy,  a 
horse  and  light  vehicle,  despatched  by  my  uncle,  arrived  to 
convey  me  to  my  new  home.  Nearly  all  the  scholars  were 
leaving  for  the  autumn  vacation,  and  my  departure  lost  its 
solemnity  in  the  hurry  and  confusion  that  prevailed.  Pen- 
rose  promised  to  correspond  with  me,  and  Charley  Rand 
said,  "  Don't  be  astonished  if  you  find  me  in  Reading  next 
summer."  Mother  Dymond  gave  me  something  wrapped 
up  in  a  newspaper,  saying,  "  Take  it,  now ;  you  '11  want 
them  before  you  get  there."  "Them"  proved  to  be  six 
large  and  very  hard  ginger-cakes.  My  trunk  —  an  old 
one,  which  had  once  belonged  to  my  father  —  was  tilted 
up  on  end  in  front  of  the  seat,  occasioning  much  misery 
both  to  my  legs  and  the  driver's ;  and  so  I  left  Honey- 
brook,  the  magnificent  tin  cupola  sparkling  a  final  farewell 
as  we  dashed  up  the  "  Reading  pike." 

The  inevitable  step  having  been  taken,  —  the  fibres  I  had 
put  out  during  the  second  stage  of  my  boyhood  torn  loose, 
—  I  began  to  speculate,  with  some  curiosity,  on  the  coming 
phase  of  my  life.  I  found  this  attraction  at  least :  I  should 


JOHN   GODFKEY'S   FORTUNES.  89 

live  in  a  much  larger  and  more  important  town  than  I  had 
ever  visited  —  a  town  with  a  river,  a  canal,  and  a  new  rail 
road.  At  the  Cross-Keys,  people  always  spoke  of  Reading 
as  being  inferior  only  to  Philadelphia,  and  one  of  the  Hon- 
eybrook  boys,  Detweiler,  hotly  and  constantly  proclaimed 
its  glories,  to  the  discomfiture  of  Marsh,  who  was  from  Lan 
caster.  As  the  afternoon  wore  away,  and  the  long  miles 
slowly  diminished  down  the  teens,  and  then  more  slowly 
down  the  units,  and  the  unsocial  driver  fell  asleep  every 
ten  minutes,  of  which  fact  the  horse  took  base  advantage, 
I  grew  weary  and  impatient.  My  uncle's  house  became  a 
less  unwelcome  terminus  to  the  journey. 

At  last  we  approached  some  bold  hills  —  wonderful,  as 
tonishing  mountains,  I  thought  them.  Our  road  stretched 
forward  through  a  hollow  between;  a  scattering  village 
came  into  view,  and  a  toll-gate  barred  the  road.  The 
driver  awoke  with  a  start.  "  Here  's  Gibraltar  !  "  he  said ; 
"  we  '11  soon  be  there,  now !  " 

"  Are  those  the  Alleghany  Mountains  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Guess  you  're  green  in  these  parts,"  said  he :  "  them 
a'n't  mountains." 

"  Well,  what  are  their  names  ?  "  I  asked  again,  in  much 
humiliation. 

"  This'n  ha'n't  no  proper  name,  — '  Penn's  Mount '  some 
call  it.  T'  other,  on  the  left,  is  Neversink.  You  '11  see 
Readin'  in  two  minutes." 

We  presently  emerged  upon  a  slope,  whence  a  glorious 
landscape  opened  upon  my  eyes.  Never  had  I  seen  or 
imagined  anything  so  beautiful.  The  stately  old  town  lay 
below,  stretched  at  full  length  on  an  inclined  plane,  rising 
from  the  Schuylkill  to  the  base  of  the  mountain  ;  the  river, 
winding  in  abrupt  curves,  disclosed  itself  here  and  there 
through  the  landscape  ;  hills  of  superb  undulation  rose  and 
fell,  in  interlinking  lines,  through  the  middle  distance, 
Scull's  Hill  boldly  detaching  itself  in  front,  and  far  in  the 
north  the  Blue  Ridge  lifted  its  dim  wall  against  .the  sky. 


90  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

The  sinking  sun  turned  the  smokes  of  the  town  and  the 
vapors  of  the  river  to  golden  dust,  athwart  which  faintly 
gleamed  the  autumn  coloring  of  distant  woods.  The  noises 
of  the  scene  were  softened  and  mellowed,  and  above  them 
all,  clear,  sweet,  and  faint,  sounded  the  bugle  of  a  boatman 
on  the  canal.  It  was  not  ignorant  admiration  on  my  part ; 
for  one  familiar  with  the  grandest  aspects  of  Nature  must 
still  confess  that  few  towns  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  are 
so  nobly  environed. 

As  we  entered  the  place  I  could  scarcely  turn  my  head 
rapidly  enough  to  the  right  and  left,  in  my  inspection  of 
signs,  houses,  and  people.  The  brick  sidewalks  seemed  to 
be  thronged,  but  nobody  paid  any  particular  attention  to 
us.  In  Honeybrook  every  one  would  have  stopped  and 
looked  at  us,  so  long  as  we  were  in  sight.  The  driver  turned 
into  the  broad  main  avenue  of  Penn  Street,  with  its  central 
line  of  markets,  then  downward  towards  the  river,  and  drew 
up,  a  few  blocks  further,  at  a  corner.  It  was  a  low,  old- 
fashioned  brick  house,  with  a  signboard  over  the  front  door 
and  window,  upon  which  was  inscribed,  in  faded  letters, 
"A.  WOOLLEY'S  GROCERY  STORE."  There  were  boxes  of 
candles,  some  bottles,  a  rope  of  onions,  half  a  dozen  with 
ered  lemons,  and  a  few  other  articles  in  the  window ;  a 
woman  was  issuing  from  the  door  with  a  basket  full  of 
brown  paper  parcels  on  her  arm.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
portly  window  a  narrow  door  was  squeezed  into  the  wall. 
The  driver,  having  alighted,  jerked  my  trunk  out  of  the 
wagon,  brought  it  down  with  a  crash  on  the  upper  step,  and 
rang  the  bell.  The  door  was  opened  by  Aunt  Peggy,  in 
person :  she  had  been  one  of  the  shadows  which  had  haunted 
my  mother's  funeral,  and  I  therefore  recognized  her. 

My  trunk  was  brought  in  and  stood  on  end  in  the  nar 
row  passage,  which  it  almost  blocked  up.  "  You  won't  want 
it  before  bedtime,  I  reckon,"  said  my  aunt ;  "  so  leave  it 
there,  and  Bolty  will  help  you  carry  it  up.  Come  into  the 
settin'-room." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  91 

Following  her  I  found  myself  presently  in  a  small  room 
behind  the  store.  It  was  comfortably  furnished,  but  some 
what  chill  and  unfriendly  in  its  atmosphere,  —  stiff,  almost, 
although  nothing  could  have  been  less  so  than  my  aunt's 
appearance.  She  wore  a  limp  calico  dress,  of  some  dark 
pattern,  and  a  cap,  the  strings  of  which  were  untied  and 
hung  o¥er  her  breast.  Her  face  was  long  and  thin,  and  her 
hair,  many  shades  lighter  than  my  mother's,  fell  in  straight, 
lank  lines  over  her  ears.  There  was  usually  a  tuft  of  it 
sticking  out  somewhere  about  the  back  of  her  neck.  Her 
eyes  were  small  and  gray,  her  nose  long  and  pointed,  and 
her  lips  thin  and  sunken  at  the  corners,  from  the  loss  of 
most  of  her  back  teeth.  Add  to  this  a  weak,  lamenting 
voice,  —  rather,  indeed,  a  whine,  —  and  it  will  readily  be 
conceived  that  my  aunt  Peggy  was  not  a  person  to  inspire 
a  young  man  w^ith  enthusiasm  for  the  female  sex.  Never 
were  two  sisters  more  unlike  than  she  and  mother.  I  pre 
sume  there  must  have  been  a  family  likeness  somewhere, 
but  I  was  really  unable  to  discover  it. 

In  a  few  minutes  Uncle  Amos  came  in  from  the  store. 
He  shook  hands  with  me  with  more  cordiality  than  I  had 
anticipated.  "  We  '11  have  things  fixed,  in  the  course  of  a 
day  or  two,"  he  said.  "  Now,  Peggy,  I  guess  you  had  bet 
ter  get  tea  ready  :  John  will  be  hungry,  after  his  ride.  Will 
you  come  into  the  store,  John,  and  look  around  a  little  ?  " 

I  preferred  that  to  sitting  alone  in  the  back  room.  After 
stumbling  over  some  coffee-bags,  —  for  it  was  getting  dusky, 
and  the  lamps  were  not  yet  lighted,  —  I  came  forth  into  the 
open  space  behind  the  counter,  where  a  boy  of  my  own  age 
was  very  busily  engaged  in  weighing  and  "  doing  up  "  vari 
ous  materials.  Uncle  Amos  stepped  forward  to  assist  him, 
leaving  me  to  play  the  spectator.  For  a  little  while,  both 
were  actively  employed ;  then,  the  rush  of  custom  having 
suddenly  subsided,  my  uncle  said,  "  Here,  Bolty,  this  is  my 
nephew,  John  Godfrey.  John,  this  is  my  assistant,  Bolty 
Himpel." 


92  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

Bolty  grinned  and  nodded,  but  said  nothing.  He  was 
larger  in  every  way  than  myself,  but  looked  younger.  His 
hair,  so  blond  as  to  be  almost  white,  was  cut  close  to  his 
head  ;  his  forehead  was  low,  his  eyes  large,  wide  apart,  and 
pale  blue  ;  his  nose  short,  thick,  and  flattened  in  the  middle, 
and  his  mouth  large  and  partly  open.  He  was  of  the  pure 
peasant-blood  of  Southern  Germany,  his  name,  Belty,  be 
ing  simply  a  contraction  of  Leopold,  with  a  little  confusion 
of  kindred  consonants.  I  was  a  good  deal  surprised  at  my 
uncle's  choice  of  an  assistant,  but  I  afterwards  found  that 
Bolty  understood  the  business,  and  nothing  else.  His 
round,  unmeaning  face  was  a  perpetual  advertisement  of 
simple  honesty  to  the  customers.  He  knew  it,  and  profited 
thereby.  Besides,  he  spoke  fluently  that  remarkable  lan 
guage,  the  Pennsylvania  German,  —  a  useful  accomplish 
ment  in  a  town  where  many  native  families  were  almost 
wholly  ignorant  of  English. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  my  aunt  whined  out  of  the 
gloom  at  the  back  of  the  store,  "  Tea,  Amos  ! "  and  we 
obeyed  the  melancholy  summons.  The  table  was  set  in 
the  kitchen  behind  the  sitting-room,  and  so  near  the  stove 
that  Aunt  Peggy  could  reach  the  hot  water  with  her  right 
hand,  without  rising  from  her  chair.  The  board  looked 
very  scantily  supplied,  to  my  eyes,  accustomed  to  country 
profuseness,  but  there  proved  to  be  enough. 

After  we  were  seated,  Uncle  Amos  bent,  or  rather 
plunged  forward,  over  his  plate,  waving  his  hands  with  the 
palms  outward,  before  bringing  them  together  in  the  atti 
tude  of  prayer.  There  was  a  certain  ostentation  in  this 
gesture,  which  struck  me  at  once.  It  seemed  to  say, 
"  Take  notice,  Lord  :  I  am  about  to  ask  Thy  blessing." 
This  was  a  very  irreverent  fancy  of  mine,  I  confess ;  but 
there  it  was :  I  could  n't  help  it. 

Most  people  —  as  we  find  them  —  would  have  considered 
Uncle  Amos  a  man  of  imposing  presence.  He  was  both 
tall  and  stout,  and  the  squareness  in  his  outlines,  both  of 


JOHN"  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  93 

head  and  body,  suggested  a  rough,  massive  strength.  His 
head  was  bald  from  the  forehead  to  the  crown,  but  the 
side-hair  was  combed  upwards  so  as  to  overlap  and  par 
tially  conceal  it.  His  eyes  were  hard,  and  shot  forth  a 
steely  twinkle  from  under  their  fat  lids ;  the  corners  were 
channelled  with  a  multitude  of  short,  sly  wrinkles.  The 
skin  of  his  cheeks  was  unpleasantly  threaded  here  and 
there  by  fine,  dark-purple  veins,  and  always  had  a  gloss 
like  varnish  when  he  was  freshly  shaven.  I  half  suspect, 
now,  that  part  of  my  instinctive  dislike  to  him  arose  from 
the  jar  which  his  appearance  occasioned  to  my  sense  of 
beauty.  As  a  matter  of  conscience,  I  tried  to  like  him ; 
but  I  am  afraid  the  exertion  was  not  very  severe. 

After  tea,  I  went  back  to  the  sitting-room,  while  my 
uncle  took  Bolty's  place  and  allowed  the  latter  to  get  his 
meal  in  turn.  Then  it  was  necessary  to  wait  until  the 
store  should  be  closed  for  the  night,  and,  to  divert  the 
time,  Aunt  Peggy  brought  me  the  "  Life  of  Henry  Martyn," 
which  I  read  witfe  hearty  interest.  "  A  good  model,"  said 
my  uncle,  looking  over  my  shoulder,  as  he  came  in,  after 
the  shutters  had  been  duly  fastened  and  bolted. 

"  Shut  it  up  now,"  he  continued.  "  We  go  early  to  bed, 
and  get  up  early,  in  this  house.  Bolty,  come  here,  and 
help  John  up-stairs  with  his  trunk." 

Bolty  seized  one  end  of  the  unwieldy  box,  and  we  slowly 
bumped  and  stumbled  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  into  a  large 
room  under  the  roof,  with  a  single  window  in  the  gable.  I 
remarked,  with  a  disagreeable  sensation,  that  there  was 
only  one  bed,  and  that  one  not  remarkably  broad.  The 
big,  coarse  fellow  would  be  sure  to  usurp  the  most  of  it, 
and  his  broad  nose  and  open  mouth  indicated  an  immense 
capacity  for  snoring.  Besides,  I  was  always,  from  a  very 
child,  exceedingly  sensitive  to  what  I  may  call,  for  want  of 
a  better  term,  human  electricity ;  that  is  to  say,  certain 
persons  attract  me,  or  impart  a  sense  of  comfort,  by  their 
physical  nearness,  while  others  repel  or  convey  an  impres- 


94  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

sion  of  vague  discomfort.  This  feeling  seems  to  have  no 
connection  with  beauty  or  ugliness,  health  or  disease,  or  even 
affection  or  enmity.  It  arises  from  some  subtle  affinity  of 
physical  temperament,  like  that  which  we  occasionally  no 
tice  in  the  vegetable  world.  There  are  certain  plants  which 
flourish  or  droop  in  the  neighborhood  of  certain  others.  I 
think  this  delicate,  intangible  sense  is  general  among  culti 
vated  persons,  but  I  have  never  found  it  developed  to  the 
same  extent  as  in  my  own  case. 

I  could  not  justly  class  Bolty  Himpel  among  those 
strongly  repellant  natures  whose  approach  to  me  was  like 
that  of  a  poisonous  wind,  but  there  was  sufficient  of  the  feel 
ing  to  make  the  necessity  of  lying  all  night  in  his  "  atmos 
phere  "  very  distasteful.  However,  there  was  no  help  for 
it ;  he  had  already  asked  me,  — 

"Which  side  '11  you  take  ?" 

I  chose  that  nearest  the  window,  and  soon  fell  asleep, 
wearied  with  the  changing  excitements  of  the  day.  It  was 
not  long,  apparently,  before  the  bedstead  creaked  and 
shook,  and  a  loud  voice  yelled,  "  Tumble  out ! " 

The  dawn  was  glimmering  through  the  window.  Bolty 
was  already  hauling  on  his  trousers,  and  I  rose  and  looked 
out.  To  my  delight  I  could  see  the  long,  majestic  outline 
of  Penn's  Mount  above  the  houses,  its  topmost  trees  mak 
ing  a  dark  fringe  against  the  morning  sky.  The  view  be 
came  a  part  of  my  garret-furniture,  and  changed  the  aspect 
of  the  room  at  once. 

"  Boss  is  pretty  sharp,"  said  Bolty  to  me,  as  I  commenced 
dressing  ;  "  he  opens  half  an  hour  sooner  and  keeps  open 
half  an  hour  later  than  any  other  grocery  in  the  town. 
'T  a'n't  a  bad  plan.  People  get  to  know  it,  and  they  come 
to  us  when  they  can't  go  nowhere  else.  It  keeps  us  on  the 
go,  though.  You  ha'n't  done  nothin'  at  business,  ha'n't 
you?" 

"  No,"  I  answered ;  "  I  've  been  at  school.  'T  was  Uncle 
Amos's  plan  that  I  should  come  here,  and  I  don't  know 
how  I  '11  like  it." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  95 

"  Oh,  you  '11  soon  git  the  hang  of  it.  I  don't  s'pose  he  '11 
put  you  to  rollin'  o'  bar'ls  and  openin'  o'  boxes.  Y'  a'n't 
built  for  that." 

Whereupon  Bolty  deliberately  squeezed  and  twisted  the 
muscles  of  my  upper  arm,  in  such  wise  that  they  were  sore 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  "  That 's  the  crow-bar,"  said  he, 
bending  and  stiffening  his  own  right  arm,  until  the  flexor 
rose  like  an  arch ;  "  and  them  's  the  death-mauls,"  shak 
ing  his  clenched  fists.  These  expressions  he  had  evidently 
picked  up  from  some  canal  boatman.  Their  force  and 
fierceness  contrasted  comically  with  the  vacant  good-humor 
written  on  his  face. 

We  went  down  to  the  shop  and  opened  the  shutters. 
There  was  little  custom  before  breakfast,  so  I  lounged 
about  behind  the  counter,  pulling  open  drawers  of  spices 
and  reading  the  labels  on  bottles  and  jars.  After  all,  I 
thought,  there  are  more  disagreeable  avocations  in  the 
world  than  that  of  a  grocer,  —  bricklaying,  for  instance.  I 
determined  to  do  my  share  of  the  work  faithfully,  whether 
I  liked  it  or  not.  I  was  in  my  nineteenth  year,  and,  at  the 
worst,  would  be  my  own  master  at  twenty-one. 

Bolty  was  right  in  his  conjecture.  He  had  not  only  more 
strength  than  myself,  but  greater  mechanical  dexterity,  and 
consequently  the  heavy  work  fell  to  his  share.  My  uncle, 
finding  that  I  wrote  a  neat  hand  and  was  a  good  arithme 
tician,  gradually  initiated  me  into  the  mysteries  of  day-book 
and  ledger.  I  also  assisted  in  waiting  upon  the  customers, 
and  in  a  few  days  became  sufficiently  expert  at  sliding 
sugar  or  coffee  out  of  the  scoop,  so  as  to  turn  the  scale  by 
the  weight  of  a  grain  or  single  bean,  settling  the  contents 
in  paper  bags,  and  tying  them  squarely  and  compactly.  My 
uncle  was  too  shrewd  a  business-man  to  let  me  learn  at  the 
expense  of  customers  :  I  was  required  to  cover  the  counter 
with  packages  of  various  weights,  the  contents  of  which 
were  afterwards  returned  to  the  appropriate  bins  or  barrels. 
Thus,  while  I  was  working  off  my  awkwardness,  the  grocery 


96  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

presented  an  air  of  unusual  patronage  to  its  innocent  vis 
itors. 

Many  of  our  customers  were  farmers  of  the  vicinity,  who 
brought  their  eggs,  butter,  and  cheese,  to  exchange  for  gro 
ceries.  This  was  a  profitable  part  of  the  business,  as  we 
gained  both  in  buying  and  selling.  There  was  a  great  de 
mand  among  these  people  for  patent  medicines,  which 
formed  a  very  important  branch  of  my  uncle's  stock,  and 
he  could  have  found  no  better  salesman  than  Bolty  Himpel. 
The  latter  discovered,  in  an  incredibly  short  time,  from 
what  neighborhood  a  new  customer  came,  and  immediately 
gave  an  account  of  the  relief  which  somebody,  living  in  an 
opposite  direction,  had  derived  from  the  use  of  certain  pills 
or  plasters. 

"  Weakness  o'  the  back,  eh  ?  "  he  would  say  to  some  mel 
ancholy-faced  countrywoman ;  "  our  Balm  of  Gilead  's  the 
stuff  for  that.  Only  three  levies  a  bottle  ;  rub  it  in  with 
flannel,  night  and  mornin'.  Mr.  Hempson  —  you  know 
him,  p'r'aps,  down  on  Poplar  Neck? — was  bent  double 
with  the  rheumatiz,  and  two  bottles  made  him  as  straight 
as  I  am.  Better  take  some  o'  the  Peruvian  Preventative, 
while  you  're  about  it,  ma'am,  —  keeps  off  chills  and  fevers. 
Deacon  Dingey  sent  all  the  way  down  from  Port  Clinton 
t'  other  day  for  some  :  they  don't  keep  it  there.  Lives  in 
a  ma'shy  place,  right  on  to  the  river,  and  they  ha'n't  had  a 
chill  in  the  family  since  they  use  'em.  I  reckon  we  've 
sold  wheelbarra  loads." 

I  noticed,  in  the  course  of  time,  that  Uncle  Amos  never 
interfered  with  Bolty's  loquacity,  unless  (which  happened 
very  rarely)  his  recommendation  was  overdone  and  the  cus 
tomer  became  suspicious.  Sometimes,  indeed,  he  said,  with 
a  gravity  not  wholly  natural,  "  Rather  too  strong.  Don't 
tell  more  than  you  know." 

"  Oh,"  Bolty  would  answer,  « 't  won't  kill  if  it  don't  cure." 

This  youth  had  an  astonishing  memory  of  names  and 
faces,  —  a  faculty  in  which,  probably  from  want  of  practice, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  97 

I  was  deficient.  His  German  also  made  him  indispensa 
ble  to  many  of  the  country  people.  My  uncle  possessed  a 
tolerable  smattering  of  the  language,  and  insisted  that  I 
should  endeavor  to  learn  it.  "  It 's  more  use  than  the  hea 
thenish  Latin  you  learned  in  school,"  said  he. 

"Why,  Uncle  Amos,"  I  retorted,  "I  read  Sacred  His 
tory  in  Latin." 

"  Then  it  was  n't  the  Word  of  God,  which  was  inspired 
in  Hebrew,"  he  answered. 

I  had  determined  to  go  on  alone  with  my  Latin  studies, 
and  his  disapprobation  of  the  language  troubled  me.  I 
could  not,  as  I  proposed,  bring  the  books  down  to  the  desk 
behind  the  counter,  and  devote  the  end  of  the  evening  to 
them,  without  incurring  his  pious  censure.  Against  Ger 
man  he  would  have  no  such  scruples,  and  I  decided,  though 
with  regret,  to  take  that  language  instead.  I  remembered 
that  Grandfather  Hatzfeld,  who  had  been  educated  in 
Bethlehem,  spoke  it  habitually,  and  that  my  mother  re 
tained  her  knowledge  of  it  to  the  last.  Among  her  books 
was  an  old  edition  of  Herder  and  Liebeskind's  "  Palmblat- 
ter,"  which  she  had  often  read  to  me,  as  a  child,  and  I  had 
then  understood.  This  early  knowledge,  however,  had  long 
since  faded  to  a  blank,  but  it  left  the  desire  to  be  renewed, 
and  perhaps  unconsciously  smoothed  the  first  difficulties  of 
the  study. 

I  saw  little  of  Aunt  Peggy,  except  at  meals  and  on  Sun 
days.  Having  never  had  any  children  of  her  own,  she 
would  scarcely  have  been  able  to  assume  a  motherly  atti 
tude  towards  me  ;  but  I  do  not  think  she  tried.  Her  share 
in  the  conversation  was  generally  of  a  discouraging  cast, 
and  the  subject  which  most  seemed  to  excite  her  interest 
was  a  case  of  backsliding  which  had  recently  occurred  in 
my  uncle's  church.  For  several  days  the  latter  added  to 
his  tri-daily  grace  a  prayer  "  that  them  which  have  forsaken 
the  light  may  be  brought  back  to  it,  and  that  them  which 
wander  in  darkness  may  be  led  to  seek  it ! "  He  was  un- 
7 


98  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

doubtedly  sincere  in  this  prayer,  and  I  could  have  joined 
in  it,  had  I  not  been  suspicious  enough  to  guess  that  the 
latter  clause  must  be  aimed  at  myself. 

On  Sundays,  Bolty  and  I  went  twice  to  church  with  my 
uncle  and  aunt,  dutifully  joining  in  the  hymns,  as  I  had 
been  accustomed  to  do  with  my  mother.  I  declined  taking 
a  class  in  the  Sunday-school,  much  to  my  uncle's  displeas 
ure  ;  but,  after  being  confined  to  the  store  all  the  week,  I 
felt  an  urgent  craving  for  a  mouthful  of  fresh  air  and  the 
freedom  of  the  landscape.  Sometimes  I  climbed  high  up 
the  sides  of  Mount  Penn,  whence  the  brown  tints  of  the 
coming  winter  vanished  far  off  in  delicious  blue  ;  but  more 
frequently  I  walked  northward  to  the  knoll  now  covered 
by  the  Cemetery,  and  enjoyed  the  luxury  of  a  wide  look 
out  on  all  sides.  In  the  evening,  Bolty  was  allowed  to  visit 
his  father,  an  honest,  hard-working  shoemaker,  living  on 
the  eastern  edge  of  the  town,  and  I  occasionally  accompa 
nied  him.  The  family  conversation  was  entirely  in  Ger 
man,  so  that  these  visits  were  not  much  of  a  recreation, 
after  all. 

I  soon  saw  that  the  literary  performances  which  had 
been  my  pride  and  delight  at  school  must  be  given  up,  at 
least  for  the  winter.  There  was  no  fire  in  the  garret  bed 
room,  and  I  was  not  likely  to  be  left  in  possession  of  the 
sitting-room  behind  the  store  more  than  once  a  month. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  99 


CHAPTER   VIH. 

DESCRIBING    CERTAIN   INCIDENTS  OF  MY  LIFE   IN  READING. 

THE  winter,  having  fairly  set  in,  dragged  on  its  monoto 
nous  round.  During  the  cold  weather  there  was  less  to 
do  in  the  store,  and  I  had  frequent  hours  of  leisure,  which  I 
passed  on  my  high  stool  at  the  desk,  reading  such  books  as 
I  could  procure,  and  a  few  which  I  bought.  The  sale  of 
the  cottage  and  furniture  left  a  surplus  of  sixty-seven  dol 
lars,  after  paying  the  expenses  of  my  mother's  funeral  and 
my  last  term  at  Dr.  Dymond's.  On  making  this  statement, 
as  my  guardian,  my  uncle  said,  — 

"  You  don't  need  any  more  clothes  this  winter,  and  you  'd 
better  let  me  put  this  out  for  you.  You'll  have  no  ex 
penses  here,  as  I  count  that  what  you  do  in  the  store  will 
about  balance  your  board." 

I  greatly  longed  to  have  the  whole  sum  in  my  hands,  but 
offered  to  let  him  "  put  out "  fifty  dollars  and  give  me  the 
remainder.  He  consented,  though  with  an  ill  grace,  say 
ing,  "  It  is  n't  good  to  give  boys  the  means  of  temptation." 

I  had  never  before  had  one  tenth  part  as  much  money 
in  my  pocket,  and  it  gave  me  a  wonderfully  comfortable 
feeling  of  wealth  and  independence.  My  first  step  was  to 
buy  an  octavo  volume,  containing  the  poems  of  Milton, 
Young,  Gray,  Beattie,  and  Collins,  every  word  of  which  I 
faithfully  read.  (I  wonder  whether  anybody  else  ever  did 
the  same  thing.)  I  also  purchased  a  blank  diary,  with 
headings  for  every  day  in  the  year,  and  kept  it  in  the  breast 
pocket  of  my  coat,  with  fear  and  trembling  lest  it  should 
be  left  lying  where  my  uncle  might  find  and  read  it.  For 


100  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

f, 

a  month  or  two  the  entries  were  very  regular,  then  more 
and  more  fragmentary,  and  before  summer  they  ceased 
altogether.  The  little  volume,  with  its  well-worn  cover 
and  embrowned  paper,  is  now  lying  before  me.  I  turn  its 
pages  with  a  smile  at  its  extravagant  sentiment  and  imma 
ture  reflections.  Can  it  be  that  I  really  wrote  such  stuff 
as  this  ?  — 

"  Jan.  28.  —  Cold  and  cloudy  —  emblematic  of  my  life. 
In  the  afternoon,  gleams  of  sunshine,  flashing  like  the 
wings  of  angels.  Would  I  too  could  soar  above  these  sub 
lunary  cares  !  Read  '  Childe  Harold '  while  uncle  was 
out.  Is  it  wrong  to  steal  one's  intellectual  food  ?  No ;  the 
famishing  soul  must  have  nourishment ! " 

As  I  became  familiar  with  the  routine  of  my  duties,  and 
Uncle  Amos  found  that  the  accounts  could  be  safely  in 
trusted  to  my  care,  he  frequently  left  the  store  to  Bolty 
and  myself,  and  made  short  trips  into  the  country  for  the 
purpose  of  procuring  supplies  and  perfecting  his  system  of 
exchange.  In  this  way  he  snapped  up  many  a  pound  of 
butter  and  dozen  of  eggs,  which  would  have  found  their 
way  to  other  groceries ;  and  during  the  season  when  those 
articles  were  rather  scarce  he  was  always  well  supplied,  — 
a  fact  which  soon  became  known  and  brought  a  notable 
increase  of  custom.  He  also  went  to  Philadelphia,  to  make 
his  purchases  of  the  wholesale  dealers  in  person,  instead 
of  ordering  them  by  letter.  We,  of  course,  felt  a  greater 
responsibility  during  his  absence,  and  were  very  closely 
confined  to  our  duties.  Bolty  had  no  other  ambition  than 
to  set  up  in  business  for  himself,  some  day ;  it  was  an  aim 
he  never  lost  sight  of,  and  I  was  sure  he  would  reach  it. 
For  my  part,  having  been  forced  into  my  present  position, 
I  longed  for  the  coming  of  the  day  which  would  release 
me,  but  I  was  too  conscientious  either  to  break  loose  from 
it  or  to  slight  my  share  of  the  labor. 

About  the  beginning  of  April,  either  from  the  close  con 
finement  within-doors  to  which  I  had  been  subjected,  or  to 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  101 

some  change  in  my  system,  —  for  I  was  still  growing,  and 
had  now  attained  the  average  height  of  men,  —  I  was  at 
tacked  with  fever.  The  malady  was  not  severe  nor  dan 
gerous,  but  stubborn ;  and  though,  after  a  week's  confine 
ment  to  the  spare  bedroom  on  the  second  story,  I  was  able 
to  sit  up  and  move  about  again,  the  physician  prescribed 
rest  for  a  fortnight  longer,  with  moderate  exercise  when 
the  weather  was  fine.  Aunt  Peggy  waited  upon  me  as  well 
as  she  was  able :  that  is,  when  her  household  duties  had 
been  performed,  she  brought  her  knitting  and  sat  by  the 
stove  at  the  foot  of  my  bed,  asking  occasionally,  in  a  tear 
ful  voice,  "  How  do  you  feel,  John  ? "  Fortunately,  I  re 
quired  no  watching  at  night,  for  there  was  no  element  of 
tenderness  in  the  house  to  make  it  endurable.  My  uncle 
took  my  place  in  the  store,  though  it  must  have  been,  a  seri 
ous  interruption  to  his  outside  plans.  He  acquiesced,  with 
out  apparent  impatience,  in  the  doctor's  prescription  of 
further  rest. 

During  those  days  of  convalescence  I  experienced  a 
delicious  relief  and  lightness  of  heart.  Spring  had  burst 
suddenly  upon  the  land  with  a  balmy  brightness  and 
warmth  which  lingered,  day  after  day,  belying  the  fickle 
fame  of  the  month.  Walking  down  Penn  Street  and  cross 
ing  the  bridge,  I  would  find  a  sunny  seat  on  the  top  of  the 
gray  cliff  beyond,  and  bask  in  the  soft  awakening  of  the 
landscape  around.  The  bluebird  sang  like  the  voice  of 
the  season ;  below  me,  in  gardens  and  fields,  I  saw  how  the 
dark  brown  of  the  mellow  earth  increased  for  the  planting, 
and  how  sheets  or  cloudy  wafts  of  green  settled  over  the 
barrenness  of  winter.  Again  I  became  hopeful,  joyous, 
confident  of  the  future.  Time  and  the  tenderness  of  mem 
ory  had  softened  my  grief:  I  often  recalled  mother's  words 
on  her  death-bed,  and  allowed  no  unavailing  sting  of  re 
morse  for  neglected  duties  to  cloud  the  serenity  of  my  resig 
nation.  It  was  thus,  I  felt,  that  she  would  have  me  to  feel, 
and  her  sainted  spirit  must  rejoice  in  the  returning  buoy 
ancy  of  mine. 


102  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

On  one  of  those  lovely  April  afternoons,  as  I  was  musing 
on  the  cliff,  —  my  thoughts  taking  a  vague,  wandering 
rhythm  from  the  sound  of  a  boatman's  horn  down  the 
river,  —  the  idea  of  writing  something  for  publication  came 
into  my  mind.  A  poem,  of  course,  —  for  "  Childe  Harold," 
"  Manfred,"  and  u  The  Corsair  "  had  turned  the  whole  drift 
of  my  ideas  into  a  channel  of  imagined  song.  To  write 
some  verses  and  have  them  printed  would  be  joy  —  triumph 
—  glory.  The  idea  took  possession  of  me  with  irresistible 
force.  Two  dollars  out  of  my  seventeen  had  gone  for  a 
subscription  to  the  Saturday  Evening  Post,  —  an  expense 
at  which  Uncle  Amos  had  grumbled,  until  he  found  that 
Aunt  Peggy  took  stealthy  delight  in  perusing  the  paper. 
In  its  columns  I  found  charming  poetry  by  Bessie  Bulfinch 
and  Adeliza  Choate,  besides  republications  from  contempo 
rary  English  literature,  especially  Dickens.  B.  Simmons, 
T.  K.  Hervey,  and  Charles  Swain  became,  for  me,  demi 
gods  of  song :  I  could  only  conceive  of  them  as  superior 
beings,  of  lofty  stature  and  majestic  beauty.  I  had  never 
seen  a  man  who  had  written  a  book.  Even  the  editors 
of  the  Gazette  and  Adler,  in  Reading,  were  personages 
whose  acquaintance  I  did  not  dare  to  seek.  There  was 
always  a  half-column  in  the  Post,  addressed  "To  Cor 
respondents,"  containing  such  messages  as,  —  "  Ivanhoe's 
story  contains  some  sweet  passages,  but  lacks  incident :  de 
clined  with  thanks  ; "  or,  "  The  '  Fairy's  Bower,'  by  '  Ce 
cilia,'  is  a  poem  of  much  promise,  and  will  appear  next 
week."  I  invariably  read  the  articles  thus  accepted,  and, 
while  I  recognized  their  great  merit,  (for  were  they  not 
printed  ?)  it  seemed  to  me  that,  by  much  exertion,  I  might 
one  day  achieve  the  right  to  appear  in  their  ranks. 

After  having  given  hospitality  to  the  idea,  I  carried  pen 
cil  and  paper  with  me,  and  devoted  several  afternoons  to 
the  poem.  It  was  entitled,  "  The  Unknown  Bard  "  (me.an- 
ing  myself,  of  course),  written  in  heroic  lines,  after  I  had 
vainly  attempted  the  Spenserian  stanza.  As  nearly  as  I 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  103 

can  recollect,  there  were  fifty  or  sixty  lines  of  it,  describing 
my  intellectual  isolation,  and  how  I  must  stifle  the  burning 
thoughts  that  filled  my  bosom,  lest  the  cold  world  should 
crush  me  with  its  envenomed  scorn  !  I  signed  myself 
"  Selim,"  a  name  which  I  found  in  Collins's  First  Eclogue, 
and  particularly  admired.  How  I  used  to  wish  that  some 
good  genius  had  inspired  my  mother  to  give  me  the  name 
of  "  Selim,"  or  "  Secander,"  instead  of  "  John  "  !  However, 
as  "  Selim  "  I  would  be  known  in  the  world  of  letters  and 
on  the  tablets  of  fame  —  Selim,  the  Unknown  Bard  ! 

Finished,  at  last,  and  copied  in  my  distinctest  hand,  there 
came  the  question  —  how  should  I  send  it  ?  The  clerk  at 
the  post-office  knew  me,  because  I  went  there  for  my  un 
cle's  letters,  and  also,  weekly,  for  my  beloved  newspaper. 
Perhaps  he  also  read  the  paper,  and  would  be  sure  to  find 
a  connection  between  my  letter  and  the  editorial  answer  to 
Selim  of  Reading.  Not  for  the  world  would  I  have  in 
trusted  the  awful  secret  to  a  single  soul,  —  not  even  to  Pen- 
rose  or  Bob  Simmons.  Perhaps  I  should  still  have  run 
the  risk,  as  I  fancied  it  to  be,  of  using  the  post,  bi^  for  a 
most  lucky  and  unexpected  chance.  Uncle  Amos  sug 
gested  that  I  should  go  to  Philadelphia  in  his  stead,  on 
some  business  relating  to  sugar,  with  the  details  of  which  I 
was  acquainted:  I  was  almost  too  demonstrative  in  my 
delight ;  for  my  suspicious  uncle  shook  his  head,  and  made 
it  a  condition  that  I  should  go  down  in  the  morning-train, 
accomplish  my  mission  at  once,  and  return  the  same  even 
ing. 

On  reaching  the  right-angled  city,  I  found  my  way  with 
little  difficulty  to  "Simpson  &  Brother,"  Market  Street, 
near  Second,  and,  after  very  faithfully  transacting  the  busi 
ness,  had  still  two  hours  to  spare  before  the  departure  of 
the  return-train.  The  newspaper  office  was  near  at  hand, 
—  Chestnut,  above  Third,  —  and  thither  I  repaired,  with 
flushed  face  and  beating  heart,  the  precious  epistle  held 
fast  in  my  hand,  yet  carefully  concealed  under  my  sleeve, 


104  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

lest  any  one,  in  passing  by,  should  read  the  superscription 
and  guess  the  contents.  I  do  not  smile  at  myself,  as  I  re 
call  this  experience.  The  brain,  like  the  heart,  has  its  vir 
ginity,  and  its  first  earnest  utterance  is  often  as  tremulously 
shy  as  the  first  confession  of  love. 

My  intention  had  been  to  deliver  the  letter  at  the  office 
of  the  paper,  as  if  I  had  been  simply  its  bearer  and  not  its 
author.  But  after  I  had  mounted  two  dark,  steep  flights 
of  steps,  and  found  myself  before  the  door,  my  courage 
failed  me.  I  heard  voices  within  :  there  were  several  per 
sons,  then.  They  would  be  certain  to  look  at  me  sharply 

—  to  notice  my  agitation  —  perhaps  to  question  me  about 
the  letter.     While  I  was  standing  thus,  twisting  and  turn 
ing  it  in  my  hand,  in  a  veritable  perspiration  from  excite 
ment,  I  heard  footsteps  descending  from  an  upper  story. 
Desperate  and  panic-stricken,  I  laid  the  letter  hastily  on 
the  floor,  at  the  door  of  the  office,  and  rushed  down  to  the 
street  as  rapidly  and  silently  as  possible.     Without  looking 
around,  I  walked  up  Chestnut  Street  with  a  fearful  impres 
sion  that  somebody  was  following  me,  and  turning  the  cor 
ner  of  Fourth,  began  to  read  the  titles  of  the  books  in 
Hart's  window.     Five  minutes  having  elapsed,  I  knew  that 
I  was  not  discovered,  and  recovered  my  composure  ;  though, 
now  that  the  poem  had  gone  out  of  my  hands,  I  would 
have  given  anything  to  get  it  back  again. 

When  the  next  number  of  the  paper  arrived,  I  tore  off 
the  wrapper  with  trembling  fingers  and  turned  to  the  fate 
ful  column  on  the  second  page.  But  I  .might  as  well  have 
postponed  my  excitement :  there  was  no  notice  of  the  poem. 
Perhaps  they  never  received  the  letter,  —  perhaps  it  had 
been  trodden  upon  and  defaced,  and  swept  down-stairs  by 
the  office-boy  !  These  were,  at  least,  consoling  possibilities, 

—  better  that  than  to  be  contemptuously  ignored.     By  the 
following  week  my  fever  was  nearly  over,  and  I  opened  the 
paper  with  but  a  faint  expectation  of  finding  anything ;  but 
lo  !  there  it  was,  —  "  Selim  "  at  the  very  head  of  the  an- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  105 

noimcements  !  These  were  the  precious  words  :  "  We  are 
obliged  to  ;  Selim '  for  his  poem,  which  we  shall  publish 
shortly.  It  shows  the  hand  of  youth,  but  evinces  a  flatter 
ing  promise.  Let  him  trim  the  midnight  lamp  with  dili 
gence." 

If  the  sinking  sun  had  wheeled  about  and  'gone  up  the 
western  sky,  or  the  budding  trees  had  snapped  into  full  leaf 
in  five  minutes,  I  don't  believe  it  would  have  astonished 
me.  I  was  on  my  way  home  from  the  post-office  when  I  read 
the  lines,  and  I  remember  turning  out  of  Penn  Street  to  go 
by  a  more  secluded  and  circuitous  way,  lest  I  should  be 
tempted  to  cut  a  pigeon-wing  on  the  pavement,  in  the  sight 
of  the  multitude.  I  passed  a  little  brick  building,  with  a  tin 
sign  on  the  shutter,  — "  D.  J.  Mulford,  Attorney-at-Law." 
"Pooh!"  I  said  to  myself;  "what's  D.  J.  Mulford?  He 
never  published  a  poem  in  his  life  ! "  As  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  his  head,  silhouetted  against  the  back  window, 
I  found  myself,  nevertheless,  rather  inclined  to  pity  him  for 
being  unconscious  that  the  author  of"  The  Unknown  Bard" 
was  at  that  moment  passing  his  door. 

This  disproportionate  exultation,  the  reader  will  say,  be 
trayed  shallow  waters.  Why  should  I  not  admit  the  fact  ? 

My  mind  was  exceedingly  shallow,  at  that  time,  but, 
thank  Heaven  !  it  was  limpid  as  a  mountain  brook.  It 
could  have  floated  no  craft  heavier  than  a  child's  toy-sloop, 
but  the  sun  struck  through  it  and  filled  its  bed  with  lio;ht. 

O  O 

If  it  is  expected  that  we  should  feel  ashamed  of  our  intel 
lectual  follies,  we  must  needs  regret  that  we  were  ever  young. 
When  the  poem  at  last  appeared,  after  a  miserably  weary 
interval  of  two  or  three  weeks,  I  was  a  little  mortified  to 
find  that  some  liberty  had  been  taken  with  the  language. 
Where  I  had  written  "  hath  "  I  found  "  has  "  substituted, 
and,  what  was  worse,  "  Fame's  eternal  brow,"  which  I  thought 
so  grand,  was  changed  into  "  Fame's  resplendent  brow." 
The  poem  did  n't  seem  quite  mine,  with  these  alterations : 
they  took  the  keen  edge  off  my  pride  and  my  happiness. 


106  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

However,  Selim  was-  at  last  the  companion,  if  not  the  equal, 
of  Bessie  Bulfinch  and  Adeliza  Choate,  —  that  was  a  great 
point  gained.  I  determined  that  he  should  not  relapse  into 
silence. 

My  next  essay  was  a  tale,  called  "  Envy  ;  or,  the  Maiden 
of  Ravenna."  I  am  ashamed  to  say  that  I  placed  the  city 
upon  the  summit  of  a  frightful  precipice,  the  base  of  which 
was  washed  by  the  river  Arno  !  Laurelia,  the  maiden  of 
the  story,  fell  from  the  awful  steep,  but  fortunately  alighted 
on  the  branch  of  a  weeping  willow,  which  gently  transferred 
her  to  the  water,  whence  she  was  rescued  by  the  Knight 
Grimaldi.  But  this  story  proved  too  much  even  for  the 
kindly  editor,  whose  refusal  was  so  gentle  and  courteous 
that  it  neither  wounded  my  pride  nor  checked  my  ambi 
tion. 

One  day  in  early  summer  I  happened  to  pass  again  by 
the  office  of  D.  J.  Mulford.  I  glanced  at  the  sign  me 
chanically,  and  was  going  on,  when  a  terrible  thumping  on 
the  window-panes  startled  and  arrested  me.  I  stopped  :  the 
window  was  suddenly  raised,  and  who  but  Charley  Rand 
poked  his  head  out ! 

"  I  say,  Godfrey  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  come  in  here  a  minute  ! 
Mulford  's  out,  and  I  have  the  office  to  myself." 

"Why,  Rand,"  said  I,  as  he  opened  the  door  for  me, 
"  how  did  you  get  here  ?  " 

"  Sit  down,  and  I  '11  tell  you  all  about  it.  Father  said, 
you  know,  that  I  might  be  a  lawyer,  if  I  had  a  mind.  Well, 
this  spring,  when  he  found  I  had  Latin  enough  to  tell  him 
what  posse  comitatus  meant,  and  scire  facias,  and  venditioni 
exponas,  and  so  on,  —  such  as  you  see  in  the  sheriff 's  adver 
tisements,  —  he  thought  I  was  ready  to  begin  the  study.  I 
had  no  objections,  for  I  knew  that  the  school  would  be  dull, 
with  Penrose,  Marsh,  Brotherton,  and  most  of  the  older 
boys  gone,  and,  besides,  it 's  time  I  was  seeing  a  little  more 
life.  Many  fellows  set  up  in  business  for  themselves  at  my 
age.  Mulford  's  father's  lawyer,  whenever  he  's  obliged  to 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  107 

have  one ;  I  suppose  he  '11  be  my  first  client,  after  I  pass. 
I  've  been  here  ten  days,  and  was  just  thinking  I  must  find 
you  out,  when  I  saw  you  go  by  the  window.  Have  a  cigar  ?  " 

I  declined  the  offer,  and  politely,  considering  my  abhor 
rence  of  the  custom. 

"  You  've  grown,  Godfrey,"  Rand  continued,  hauling  a 
second  chair  towards  him  and  hoisting  his  feet  upon  the 
arms,  "  and  I  see  you  're  getting  some  fuzz  on  your  chin. 
You  '11  be  a  man  soon,  and  I  should  n't  wonder  if  you  'd 
make  your  mark  some  day." 

I  overlooked  the  patronizing  manner  of  this  remark  in  its 
agreeable  substance.  And  here  I  should  explain  that  Char 
ley  Rand  was  now  by  no  means  the  same  youth  as  on  the  day 
when  we  were  together  intrusted  to  Dr.  Dymond's  care. 
Until  then  he  had  been  petted  and  humored  in  every  pos 
sible  way,  and  was  selfish  and  overbearing  in  his  manner. 
A  few  months  among  forty  or  fifty  boys,  however,  taught 
him  to  moderate  his  claims.  He  was  brought  down  to  the 
common  level,  and  with  that  flexibility  of  nature  which  was 
his  peculiar  talent,  or  faculty,  leaped  over  to  the  opposite 
extreme  of  smooth-tongued  subservience.  What  he  had 
ceased  to  gain  by  impudence,  he  now  endeavored  to  obtain 
by  coaxing,  flattering,  and  wheedling.  In  the  latter  art  he 
soon  became  an  adept.  Many  a  time  have  I  worked  out 
for  him  some  knotty  problem,  in  violation  of  the  rules  of 
the  school,  arid  in  violation,  also,  of  my  own  sense  of  right, 
cajoled  by  his  soft,  admiring,  affectionate  accents.  I  do  not 
describe  his  character  as  I  understood  it  then,  but  as  I 
afterwards  learned  it.  I  was  still  his  dupe. 

In  the  space  of  half  an  hour  he  managed  to  extract  from 
me  the  particulars  of  my  life  and  occupation  in  Reading. 
He  already  knew,  in  ten  days,  much  more  about  the  prin 
cipal  families  of  the  place  than  I  had  learned  in  eight 
months.  After  this  interview,  I  soon  got  the  habit  of  walk 
ing  around  to  Mulford's  office  on  Sunday  afternoons  and 
spending  an  hour  or  two  with  him.  We  sat  in  the  back- 


108  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

room,  which  opened  on  a  little  yard  covered  with  weeds, 
boards,  and  broken  bottles,  so  that  the  proprieties  of  the 
street-side  of  the  building  were  carefully  respected.  I 
felt  less  lonely,  now  that  there  was  a  schoolmate  within 
hail. 

In  my  uncle's  house  things  went  on  very  much  as  usual. 
Bolty  arid  I  had  scarcely  any  taste  in  common,  (unless  it 
was  a  fondness  for  pea-nuts,  which  I  retain  to  this  day,) 
but  we  never  quarrelled.  As  we  were  strictly  attentive  to 
our  respective  duties,  my  uncle  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with 
us,  and  was,  for  this  reason  perhaps,  forbearing  in  other 
respects.  Aunt  Peggy  adhered  to  her  monotonous  house 
hold  round,  arid  made  no  attempt  to  control  my  actions, 
except  when  I  bought  white  linen  instead  of  nankeen,  for 
summer  wear.  "  There  '11  be  no  end  to  the  washin'  of  it," 
she  said,  in  a  voice  so  suggestive  of  tears  that  I  expected 
to  see  her  take  out  her  handkerchief. 

It  was  plain  to  me  that  Uncle  Amos  intended  to  enlarge 
his  business  as  rapidly  as  was  consistent  with  his  prudent 
and  cautious  habits.  I  had  good  reason  to  believe  that  my 
services  were  included  in  his  plans ;  yet,  though  I  was 
more  firmly  fixed  than  ever  in  my  determination  to  leave 
when  his  legal  guardianship  should  cease,  I  judged  it  best 
to  be  silent  on  this  point.  It  would  only  lead  to  tedious 
sermons,  —  discussions  in  which  neither  could  have  the 
least  sympathy  with  the  other's  views,  and  possibly  a  per 
manent  and  very  disagreeable  disturbance  in  our  relations 
towards  each  other.  I  do  not  think  he  recognized,  as  I 
did,  that  I  had  quietly  established  an  armistice,  which  I 
could  at  any  time  annul. 

In  one  sense,  Bolty  was  my  aid.  He  never  mentioned 
the  subject,  but  I  understood  then  as  well  as  I  do  now  that 
he  knew  my  want  of  liking  for  the  business,  and  was  satis 
fied  that  it  should  be  so.  After  the  weather  grew  warm 
enough,  I  resumed  my  Latin  studies  in  the  garret ;  thither 
also  I  took  prohibited  books,  and  filled  quires  of  paper  with 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  109 

extracts  and  comments,  feeling,  instinctively,  that  my  com 
panion  would  never  betray  me. 

This  sort  of  life  was  not  what  I  would  have  chosen.  It 
was  far  from  satisfying  the  cravings  of  heart  and  brain  ; 
but  I  bore  it  with  patience,  looking  forward  to  the  day  of 
release. 


110  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN    WHICH    I    OUGHT    TO    BE    A    SHEEP,    BUT    PROVE    TO    BE 
A    GOAT. 

THERE  was  one  point  upon  which  I  was  always  appre 
hensive  that  Uncle  Amos  would  assail  me.  It  dated  from 
that  first  evening  in  the  little  cottage  at  the  Cross- Keys, 
the  previous  summer.  What  I  have  said  of  my  shrinking 
delicacy  of  feeling  with  regard  to  my  poetic  attempts  will 
equally  apply  to  the  religious  sentiment.  A  dear  and  ten 
der  friend  might  have  found  me  willing  to  open  my  heart 
to  him  concerning  sacred  things ;  but  I  could  not,  dared 
not,  admit  a  less  privileged  person  to  the  sanctuary.  I  had 
not  the  courage  or  the  independence  necessary  to  arrest 
my  uncle's  approach  to  the  subject,  and  was  therefore  pre- 
ternaturally  watchful  and  alert  in  retreating.  Very  often, 
I  suspect,  I  fancied  an  ambush  where  none  existed.  My 
uncle  probably  saw  that  he  must  tread  cautiously,  and  feel 
his  way  by  degrees,  for  I  only  remember  one  conversation 
in  the  course  of  the  summer  which  really  disturbed  me. 

My  poor  mother  had  been  an  earnest  Lutheran,  of  the 
hearty,  cheerful,  warm-blooded  German  sort.  She  always 
preferred  thanksgiving  for  God's  mercies  to  fear  of  His 
wrath,  and  had  brought  me  up  in  the  faith  that  the  beauties 
and  blessings  of  this  life  might  be  enjoyed  without  forfeit 
ing  one's  title  as  a  Christian.  At  the  age  of  fourteen  I 
had  been  confirmed,  and  was  therefore  to  be  considered  as 
a  member  of  the  Church.  At  least,  I  supposed  that  the 
principal  religious  duty  thenceforth  required  of  me  was  to 
follow  God's  commandments  as  nearly  as  my  imperfect 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  Ill 

human  nature  would  allow.  I  never  closed  my  eyes  in 
sleep  without  invoking  the  protection  of  my  only  Father, 
with  a  grateful  feeling  in  my  heart  of  hearts  that  He  did 
indeed  hear  and  heed  me.  I  did  not  fear  damnation, 
because  I  had  not  the  slightest  liking  for  the  Devil. 

I  knew  little  or  nothing  of  the  slight  partitions  which 
divide  the  multitudinous  sects  of  the  Christian  world,  and 
was  not  the  least  troubled  in  conscience  at  attending  my 
uncle's  church  instead  of  my  own.  Whatever  was  doc 
trinal  in  the  latter  I  had  forgotten  since  my  confirmation, 
—  probably  because  it  had  then  made  very  little  impres 
sion  on  my  mind.  My  uncle's  clergyman  was  a  mild,  ami 
able  man,  whose  goodness  it  was  impossible  to  doubt,  and  I 
listened  to  his  sermons  with  proper  reverence. 

Something,  I  know  not  what,  —  possibly  some  memory 
of  my  mother,  —  led  me,  one  Sunday  in  summer,  to  attend 
the  Lutheran  church.  The  well-known  hymns  fell  on  my 
ear  with  a  home-like  sound,  and  the  powerful  tones  of  the 
organ  seemed  to  lift  me  to  new  devotional  heights.  In  the 
sermon  I  felt  the  influence  of  a  strong,  massive  intellect, 
the  movements  of  which  I  could  not  always  follow,  but 
which  stimulated  and  strengthened  me.  After  this,  I 
divided  my  Sundays  nearly  equally  between  the  two 
churches.  On  informing  my  uncle  and  mint,  at  dinner, 
where  I  had  been,  the  former  was  at  first  silent ;  but,  after 
some  grave  reflection,  asked  me,  — 

"  Are  you  a  member  of  that  persuasion  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  I  answered,  "just  the  same  as  mother  and 
Aunt  Peggy." 

I  struck  a  blow  without  intending  it.  Aunt  Peggy 
looked  startled  and  uneasy ;  a  strong  color  came  into  her 
face  ;  then,  after  a  quick  glance  at  uncle,  she  lifted  her 
hands  and  exclaimed,  "  No  !  Praise  and  Glory,  not  now ! " 

"  Hem  !  "  coughed  Uncle  Amos  ;  "  never  mind,  Peggy  ; 
blessed  are  them  that  see ! "  Then,  turning  to  me,  he 
added,  "  Do  you  mean  that  you  have  professed  faith  and 
been  baptized  ?  " 


112  JOHN  GODFREY^   FORTUNES. 

"  I  was  baptized  when  I  was  a  baby,"  I  answered,  "  and 
confirmed  when  I  was  fourteen." 

"  Have  you  experienced  a  change  of  heart  ?  " 

"  No,"  I  boldly  said,  thinking  that  he  meant  to  indicate 
infidelity,  or  some  kind  of  backsliding,  by  this  term. 

Uncle  Amos,  to  my  surprise,  uttered  a  loud  groan,  and 
Aunt  Peggy  made  that  peculiar  clucking  noise  with  her 
tongue  against  her  teeth,  which  some  women  employ  to 
signify  disaster  or  lamentation. 

"  You  feel,  then,"  said  Uncle  Amos,  after  a  long  pause, 
"  that  your  nature  is  utterly  corrupt  and  sinful.  Do  you 
not  see  what  a  mockery  it  is  to  claim  that  you  are  a  fol 
lower  of  the  Lamb  ?  " 

"  No,  uncle  !  "  I  cried,  indignantly  ;  "  I  am  not  corrupt 
and  sinful.  I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  saint,  but  no  one  has  a 
right  to  call  me  a  sinner.  I  have  kept  all  the  command 
ments,  except  the  tenth,  and  I  never  broke  that  without 
repenting  of  it  afterwards.  Mother  belonged  to  the  Lu 
theran  Church,  and  I  won't  hear  anything  said  against 
it!" 

For  a  moment  an  equally  earnest  reply  seemed  to  be 
hovering  on  my  uncle's  tongue  ;  but  he  checked  himself 
with  a  strong  effort,  groaned  in  a  subdued  way,  and  re 
marked  with  unusual  gravity,  "  Darkness  !  darkness  !  "  His 
manner  towards  me,  for  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  was  unu 
sually  solemn.  The  exigencies  of  business,  however,  soon 
restored  our  ordinary  relations. 

In  the  autumn,  my  uncle's  church  was  visited  by  a  noted 
"  revival "  preacher,  whose  coming  had  been  announced 
some  time  in  advance.  He  was  a  Kentuckian,  of  consid 
erable  fame  in  his  own  sect,  and  even  beyond  its  borders, 
so  that  his  appearance  never  failed  to  draw  crowds  together. 
As  this  was  his  first  visit  to  Reading,  it  was  an  event 
which  could  not,  of  course,  be  allowed  to  go  by  without  giv 
ing  the  church  the  full  benefit  of  the  impression  he  should 
produce,  and  a  large  increase  of  the  congregation  was 
counted  upon  as  a  sure  result. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  113 

Finally,  Mr.  Brandreth,  the  resident  clergyman,  an 
nounced  with  unusual  unction  that  "  on  the  next  Sabbath, 
Brother  Mellowby  would  occupy  the  pulpit."  The  news  im 
mediately  spread  through  the  town,  and  was  duly  announced 
in  the  papers.  When  the  day  and  hour  arrived,  the  church 
was  so  crowded  that  extra  benches  were  brought  and  placed 
lengthwise  along  the  aisles.  Expectation  was  on  tiptoe, 
when,  after  the  hymn  had  been  sung  and  Mr.  Brandreth 
had  made  a  prayer  in  which  the  distinguished  brother  was 
not  forgotten,  a  tall  form  arose  and  stood  in  the  pulpit. 
Brother  Mellowby  was  over  six  feet  in  height,  and  rather 
lank,  but  with  broad,  square  shoulders  and  massive  face. 
His  eyes  were  large  and  dark,  and  his  black  hair,  growing 
straight  upward  from  his  forehead,  turned  and  fell  on  either 
side  in  long  locks,  which  tossed  and  waved  in  the  wind  of 
his  eloquence.  His  cheek-bones  were  prominent,  his  mouth 
large  and  expressive  (that  of  Michael  Angelo's  "  Moses  " 
still  reminds  me  of  it),  and  his  chin  square  and  strong. 
Altogether,  evidently  a  man  of  power  and  of  purpose,  but 
with  more  iron  than  gold  in  his  composition.  He  looked,  to 
me,  as  if  he  had  at  one  time  been  near  enough  to  Hell  to  feel 
the  scorch  of  its  flames,  and  had  thence  fought  his  way  to 
Heaven  by  sheer  force  of  a  will  stronger  than  the  Devil's. 

The  commencement  of  his  sermon  was  grave,  earnest, 
and  deliberate.  It  held  the  attention  of  the  congregation 
rather  by  the  clear,  full,  varied  music  of  his  voice  than  by 
any  peculiar  force  of  expression.  Towards  the  close,  how 
ever,  as  he  touched  upon  the  glories  of  the  Christian's  fu 
ture  reward,  the  wonderful  power  of  his  voice  and  the 
warmth  of  his  personal  magnetism  developed  themselves. 
Looking  upwards,  with  rapt  ecstatic  gaze,  he  seemed  verily 
to  behold  what  he  described,  —  the  clouds  opening,  the 
glory  breaking  through,  the  waving  of  golden  palms  in  the 
hands  of  the  congregated  angels,  the  towers  of  the  New 
Jerusalem,  shining  far  off,  in  deeps  of  infinite  lustre,  the 
green  Eden  of  Heaven,  watered  by  the  River  of  Life,  — 
8 


114  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

and  then,  glory  surpassing  all  these  glories,  the  unimagin 
able  radiance  of  the  Throne.  Still  pointing  upwards,  as  he 
approached  the  awful  light,  he  suddenly  stopped,  covered 
his  eyes,  and  in  a  voice  of  tremulous  awe,  exclaimed,  "The 
Seraphs  veil  their  brows  before  Him,  —  the  eyes  of  the  re 
deemed  souls  dare  not  look  upon  His  countenance,  —  the 
mind  clothed  in  corrupting  flesh  cannot  imagine  His  glory ! " 

The  speaker  sat  down.  I  had  scarcely  breathed  during 
this  remarkable  peroration,  and,  when  his  voice  ceased, 
seemed  to  drop  through  leagues  of  illuminated  air,  to  find 
myself,  with  a  shock,  in  my  uncle's  pew.  For  a  few  seconds 
the  silence  endured ;  then  a  singular,  convulsive  sound,  which 
was  not  a  cry,  yet  could  scarcely  be  called  a  groan,  ran 
through  the  church.  Some  voices  exclaimed  "  Glory  ! "  the 
women  raised  their  handkerchiefs  to  their  faces,  and  an  un 
accustomed  light  shone  from  the  eyes  of  the  men.  The 
hymn  commencing,  "  Turn  to  the  Lord  and  seek  salvation" 
then  arose  from  the  congregation  with  a  fervor  which  made 
it  seem  the  very  trumpet-call  and  battle-charge  of  the  ar 
mies  of  the  Cross. 

I  did  not  go  to  church  in  the  evening,  but  I  heard  that 
the  impression  produced  by  Mr.  Mellowby's  first  sermon 
was  still  further  increased  by  his  second.  Several  "  hope 
ful  "  cases  were  already  reported,  and  the  services  were  an 
nounced  to  continue  through  the  week.  My  uncle  proposed 
that  Bolty  and  I  should  relieve  each  other  alternately,  in  the 
evenings,  so  that  we  might  both  attend.  I  was  prevented, 
however,  from  going  again  until  Wednesday,  by  which  time 
he  had  decided  to  put  up  the  shutters  an  hour  earlier,  even 
at  the  loss  of  some  little  custom. 

On  this  occasion,  Bolty  and  I  went  together.  When  we 
entered  the  church,  we  found  it  well  filled,  and  the  atmos 
phere  almost  stifling.  Brother  Mellowby  was  "  exhorting," 
but,  from  a  broad  cross-aisle  in  front  of  the  pews,  up  and 
down  which  he  walked,  pausing  now  and  then  to  turn  and 
hurl  impassioned  appeals  to  his  auditors.  Whenever  he 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  115 

stopped  a  moment  to  recover  breath,  a  wild  chorus  of  cries 
and  groans  arose,  mingled  with  exclamations  of  "Amen  ! " 
"  Glory  !  "  "  Go  on,  Brother  !  "  Speaker  and  hearers  were 
evidently  strung  to  the  same  pitch  of  excitement,  and  mut 
ually  inspired  each  other.  Mr.  Brandreth,  Uncle  Amos, 
and  several  prominent  members  of  the  congregation  walked 
up  and  down  the  aisles,  seizing  upon  the  timid  or  hesitating, 
placing  their  arms  about  the  necks  of  the  latter,  gently 
coaxing  them  to  kneel,  or,  when  wholly  successful,  leading 
them,  sobbing  and  howling,  to  the  "  anxious  seat  "  in  front 
of  the  pulpit.  These  intermediate  agents  were  radiant  with 
satisfaction  ;  the  atmosphere  of  the  place  seemed  to  exhila 
rate  and  agreeably  excite  them.  For  my  part,  I  looked  on 
the  scene  with  wonder,  not  unmixed  with  a  sense  of  pain. 

Brother  Mellowby  had  been  apparently  engaged  in  per 
suasive  efforts  up  to  the  time  of  my  entrance.  Some  twelve 
or  fifteen  persons  had  been  moved,  and  were  kneeling  in 
various  attitudes  —  some  prostrate  and  silent,  some  crying 
and  flinging  up  their  arms  convulsively  —  at  the  anxious 
seat.  Others  were  weeping  or  groaning  in  their  seats  in  the 
pews,  but  still  hung  back  from  the  step  which  proclaimed 
them  confessed  sinners,  seeking  for  mercy.  It  was  to  these 
latter  that  the  speaker  now  addressed  himself  with  a  new 
and  more  powerful  effort. 

I  can  only  attempt  to  describe  it.  To  my  sensitive, 
beauty-loving  nature,  it  was  awful,  yet  pervaded  with  a 
wonderful  fascination  which  held  me  to  listen.  He  painted 
the  future  condition  of  the  unconverted  with  an  imagina 
tion  as  terrible  as  his  vision  of  the  Christian's  Heaven  had 
been  dazzling  and  lovely.  It  was  a  feat  of  word-painting, 
accompanied  with  dramatic  gestures  which  brought  the 
white-hot  sulphur  of  Hell  to  one's  very  feet,  and  with  in 
tonations  of  voice  which  suggested  the  eternal  despair  of 
the  damned. 

"  There  ! "  he  cried,  lifting  his  long  arms  high  above  his 
head,  and  then  bringing  them  down  with  a  rushing  swoop 


116  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

until  his  hands  nearly  touched  the  floor,  —  "  Sinners,  there 
is  your  bed !  In  the  burning  lake  —  in  the  bottomless  seas 
of  fire,  —  where  the  Evil  that  now  flatters  you  with  hon 
eyed  kisses  shall  sting  and  gnaw  and  torture  forever, — 
where  the  fallen  angels  themselves  shall  laugh  at  your  ago 
nies,  and  the  burning  remorse  of  millions  of  ages  shall  not 
avail  to  open  the  gates  of  the  pit !  For  you  will  be  forever 
sinking  down  —  down  —  DOWN  —  DOWN,  in  the  eternity 
of  Hell !  " 

He  shouted  out  the  last  words  as  if  crying  from  the 
depths  of  anguish  he  had  depicted.  His  face  was  like  that 
of  a  lost  angel,  grand  and  awful  in  its  gloomy  light.  Ex 
clamations  of  "  Lord,  have  mercy !  "  "  Lord,  save  me  !  " 
arose  all  over  the  church,  and  some  of  the  mourners  in 
front  became  frantic  in  their  despairing  appeals.  Bolty, 
at  my  side,  was  sobbing  violently.  For  myself,  I  felt  op 
pressed  and  bewildered  ;  my  mind  seemed  to  be  narcotized 
by  some  weird  influence,  though  I  was  not  conscious  of  any 
terror  on  my  soul's  account. 

Brother  Mellowby's  tone  suddenly  changed  again. 
Stretching  forth  his  hands  imploringly,  he  called,  in  ac 
cents  of  piercing  entreaty,  "  Why  do  ye  delay  ?  See,  the 
Redeemer  stands  ready  to  receive  you !  Now  is  the  ac 
cepted  time,  and  now  is  the  day  of  salvation.  Kneel  down 
at  His  feet,  acknowledge  Him,  lay  your  burden  into  His 
willing  hands.  Oh,  were  your  sins  redder  than  scarlet, 
they  shall  be  washed  white ;  oh,  were  the  gates  now  yawn 
ing  to  receive  you,  He  would  snatch  you  as  a  brand  from 
the  burning ;  oh,  if  your  hearts  are  bruised  and  bleeding, 
they  will  be  healed ;  oh,  the  tears  will  be  wiped  from  your 
eyes  ;  oh,  your  souls  will  rejoice  and  will  sing  aloud  in  grat 
itude  and  triumph,  and  you  will  feel  the  blessed  assurance 
of  salvation  which  the  world  cannot  take  away ! " 

Tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  as  he  uttered  these  words : 
a  softer  yet  not  less  powerful  influence  swayed  the  doubtful 
mourners.  They  shook  as  reeds  in  the  wind,  and  one  by 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  117 

one,  amid  shouts  of  "  Glory !  glory  !  "  tottered  forward  and 
sank  down  among  the  other  suppliants. 

I  could  not  doubt  the  solemn  reality  of  the  scene.  The 
preacher  felt,  with  every  fibre  of  his  body,  that  he  was  an 
nouncing  God's  truth,  and  the  "  mourners,"  as  they  were 
called,  were,  for  the  hour  at  least,  sincere  in  their  self-accu 
sations  and  their  cry  for  some  evidence  of  pardon.  I  com 
prehended  also,  from  what  I  saw  and  heard,  that  there  was 
indeed  a  crisis  or  turning-point  of  the  excitement,  beyond 
which  the  cries  of  penitence  and  supplication  became  joy 
ful  hosannas.  There,  before  me,  human  souls  seemed  to 
be  hovering  in  the  balance,  each  fighting  for  itself  the 
dread  battle  of  Armageddon,  the  issue  of  which  was  to  fix 
its  eternal  fate.  Some  were  crouching  in  guilty  fear  of  the 
Wrath  they  had  invoked,  while  others  sprang  upward  with 
radiant  faces,  as  if  to  grasp  the  garments  of  the  invisible 
herald  of  mercy.  The  tragedy  of  our  spiritual  nature,  in 
all  its  extremes  of  agony  and  joy,  was  there  dimly  enacted. 

It  was  impossible  to  stand  still  and  behold  all  this  un 
moved.  I  was  not  conscious  of  being  touched,  either  by 
the  Terror  or  the  Promise  ;  but  a  human  sympathy  with  the 
passion  of  the  fluctuating,  torn,  and  shattered  spirits  around 
me  —  drifted  here  and  there  like  the  eddies  of  p-hosts  in 

O 

the  circles  of  Dante's  "  Purgatorio  "  —  filled  me  with  bound 
less  pity.  The  tears  were  running  down  my  face  before  I 
knew  it.  Yet  I  cpuld  not  repress  a  feeling  of  astonish 
ment  when  I  saw  the  impassive  Bolty  led  forward  weeping 
and  roaring  for  mercy,  and  bend  down  his  bullet-head  in 
the  midst  of  the  mourners. 

Presently  Uncle  Amos  came  towards  me.  He  laid  his 
hand  affectionately  upon  my  shoulder,  and  said,  with  a  tone 
in  which  there  was  triumph  as  well  as  persuasion,  "  Ah,  I 
see  you  are  touched  at  last,  John.  Now  you  will  know 
what  it  is  to  experience  Religion.  The  gates  are  opened 
this  night,  and  there  is  joy  and  glory  enough  for  all.  Come 
forward,  and  let  us  pray  together." 


118  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

He  took  hold  of  my  arm,  but  I  drew  back.  I  could  not 
plunge  into  that  chaos  of  shrieks  and  sobbing,  around  the 
"  anxious  seat." 

"  How  ?  "  said  my  uncle,  in  grave  surprise  :  "  with  all  this 
testimony  of  the  saving  power  of  Grace,  you  are  not  willing 
to  pray  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  I  answered,  "  I  am  willing  to  pray."  * 

"  Come,  then." 

"  I  need  not  go  there  to  do  it.  I  can  pray,  in  my  heart, 
here,  just  as  well." 

"  Ah  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  it  was  thus  that  the  Pharisee 
prayed ;  but  the  poor  publican,  who  threw  himself  on  the 
ground  and  cried,  '  God,  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  ! '  made 
the  prayer  which  was  accepted." 

"No,  Uncle  Amos,"  I  retorted,  "the  publican  did  not 
throw  himself  upon  the  ground.  The  Bible  says  he  Stood 
afar  off,  and  smote  upon  his  breast." 

I  was  perfectly  earnest  and  sincere  in  what  I  said,  but  I 
verily  believe  that  my  uncle  suspected  a  hidden  sarcasm  in 
my  words.  He  left  me  abruptly,  and  I  soon  saw  him  in 
conversation  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brandreth,  in  the  forward 
part  of  the  aisle.  It  was  not  long  before  the  latter,  stopping 
by  the  way  to  stoop  and  whisper  encouragement  into  the 
ears  of  some  who  were  kneeling  in  the  pews,  approached 
the  place  where  I  stood.  I  knew,  immediately,  that  he  had 
been  sent,  but  I  did  not  shrink  from  the  encounter,  be 
cause,  so  far  as  I  knew  him,  I  had  found  him  to  be  an  ami 
able  and  kindhearted  man.  My  tears  of  sympathy  were 
already  dry,  but  I  felt  that  I  was  trembling  and  excited. 

"  Brother  Godfrey,"  said  the  clergyman,  "  are  you  ready, 
to-night,  to  acknowledge  your  Saviour  ?  " 

"  I  have  always  done  it,"  I  answered ;  "  I  belong  to  the 
Lutheran  Church." 

"  You  are  a  professing  Christian,  then  ?  " 

I  did  not  precisely  know  what  meaning  he  attached  to 
the  word  "  professing,"  but  I  answered,  "  Yes." 


JOHX   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  119 

"  We  accept  all  such  to  free  communion  with  us.  .Come 
and  unite  with  us  in  prayer  for  these  perishing  souls  ! " 

I  again  declined,  giving  him  the  same  reason  as  I  had 
given  to  my  uncle.  But  the  clergyman's  reply  to  this  plea 
was  not  so  easy  to  evade. 

"  In  the  hearing  of  God,"  said  he,  "  your  prayer  may  be 
just  as  fervent ;  but,  so  far  as  your  fellow-mortals  are  con 
cerned,  it  is  lost.  While  you  stand  here,  you  are  counted 
among  the  cold  and  the  indifferent.  Give  a  visible  sign  of 
your  pious  interest,  my  brother ;  think  that  some  poor, 
timorous  soul,  almost  ready  to  acknowledge  its  sin  and  cry 
aloud  for  pardon,  may  be  helped  to  eternal  salvation  by 
your  example.  Come  forward  and  pray  for  and  with  them 
who  are  just  learning  to  pray.  If  you  feel  the  blessed 
security  in  your  own  heart,  oh,  come  and  help  to  pour  it 
into  the  hearts  of  others  !  " 

He  said  much  more  to  the  same  effect,  and  I  found  it 
very  difficult  to  answer  him.  I  was  bewildered  and  dis 
tressed,  and  my  only  distinct  sensation  was  that  of  pain. 
The  religious  sentiment  in  my  nature  seemed  to  be  raked 
and  tortured,  not  serenely  and  healthfully  elevated.  But  I 
was  too  young  to  clearly  comprehend  either  myself  or 
others,  and  I  saw  no  way  out  of  the  dilemma  except  to 
kneel,  as  Mr.  Brandreth  insisted,  and  pray  silently  for  the 
rest  of  the  evening. 

I  therefore  allowed  him  to  lead  me  forward.  The  con 
gregation,  of  course,  supposed  that  I  came  as  another 
mourner,  —  another  treasure-trove,  cast  up  from  the  rag 
ing  deeps,  —  and  greeted  my  movement  with  fresh  shouts 
and  hosannas.  Uncle  Amos  gave  a  triumphant  exclama 
tion  of  "  Glory !  "  or,  rather,  "  GULLOW-RY  ! "  as  he  pro 
nounced  it,  in  the  effort  to  make  as  much  as  possible  out 
of  the  word.  Brother  Mellowby  tossed  back  his  floating 
hair,  threw  out  his  long  arms,  and  cried,  "Another  —  still 
another !  Oh,  come  all !  this  night  there  is  rejoicing  in 
Heaven  !  This  night  the  throne  of  Hell  totters  !  " 


120  JOHN"  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

The  "  anxious  seat "  was  painful  to  contemplate  at  a  dis 
tance,  but  there  was  something  terrifying  in  a  nearer  view. 
A  girl  of  twenty,  whose  comb  had  been  broken  in  tearing 
off  her  bonnet,  leaped  up  and  down,  with  streaming  hair, 
clapping  her  hands,  and  shouting,  or  rather  chanting, 
"  Praise  the  Lord,  praise  the  Lord,  O  my  soul !  "  Another 
lay  upon  her  back  on  the  floor,  screaming,  while  Aunt 
Peggy,  leaning  over  the  back  of  the  next  pew,  fanned  her 
face  with  a  palm-leaf  fan.  The  men  were  less  violent  in 
their  convulsions,  but  their  terrible  weeping  and  sobbing 
was  almost  more  than  I  could  bear  to  hear. 

I  was  glad  to  sink  into  some  vacant  place,  and  bury  my 
face  in  my  hands,  that  I  might  escape,  in  a  measure,  from 
the  curious  eyes  of  the  unconverted  spectators  and  the  mis 
taken  rejoicings  of  the  church-members.  On  either  side 
of  me  was  a  strong,  full-grown  man,  —  one  motionless,  and 
groaning  heavily  from  time  to  time,  while  the  other,  after 
spasms  during  which  he  threw  up  his  head  and  arms,  and 
literally  howled,  fell  down  again,  and  confessed  his  secret 
sins  audibly  at  my  very  ear.  He  was  either  unconscious 
of  the  proximity  of  others,  or  carried  too  far  in  his  excite 
ment  to  care  for  it.  I  could  not  avoid  hearing  the  man's 
acknowledged  record  of  guilt,  —  let  not  the  reader  imagine 
that  I  ever  betrayed  him,  —  and  I  remember  thinking, 
even  in  the  midst  of  my  own  bewilderment,  that  he  was  a 
very  venial  sinner,  at  the  worst,  and  his  distress  was  alto 
gether  out  of  proportion  to  his  offences.  God  would  cer 
tainly  pardon  him.  This  thought  led  me  to  an  examination 
of  my  own  life.  To  Uncle  Amos  I  had  rather  indignantly 
repelled  the  epithet  of  "  sinner,"  but  might  I  not,  after  all, 
be  more  culpable  than  I  had  supposed  ?  Was  there  noth 
ing  on  account  of  which  I  might  not  plead  for  the  Divine 
pardon  ? 

But  I  was  not  allowed  to  proceed  far  in  this  silent  sur 
vey  of  my  life.  Supposing,  after  my  conversation  with  Mr. 
Brandreth,  that  the  attitude  and  fact  of  prayer  was  all  that 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  121 

was  required  of  me,  as  an  evidence  of  sympathy  and  a  pos 
sible  help  to  some  hesitating  soul,  I  made  no  further  dem 
onstrations,  but  knelt,  with  my  arms  upon  the  bench  and 
my  forehead  bowed  upon  them.  I  was  beginning  to  collect 
my  confused  thoughts,  when  a  lamenting  female  voice  was 
heard  at  my  ear,  "  How  do  you  feel,  John  ?  " 

If  a  feeling  of  exasperation  at  such  a  place  and  time  was 
sinful,  I  sinned.  "  Aunt  Peggy,"  I  said,  somewhat  sternly, 
—  (for  I  knew  that  unless  I  made  answer  the  question 
would  be  repeated,)  —  "  Aunt  Peggy,  I  am  trying  to  pray." 

She  left  me,  but  I  was  not  long  alone.  As  soon  as  I 
heard  a  combined  creaking  of  boot-soles  and  knee-joints 
behind  me,  I  knew  whose  voice  would  follow.  I  was  patted 
on  the  back  by  a  large,  dumpy  hand,  and  Uncle  Amos  said, 
in  a  hollow  undertone,  "  That 's  right ;  John,  pray  on  !  shall 
I  help  you  to  throw  down  your  burden  ?  " 

My  nerves  twitched  and  drew  back,  as  his  heavy  arm 
stole  across  my  neck.  This  was  the  climax  of  my  distress, 
and  I  plucked  up  a  desperate  courage  to  meet  it.  "  Uncle 
Amos,"  said  I,  "  I  can  neither  pray  nor  think  here,  among 
these  people.  Let  me  go  home  to  my  room,  and  I  promise 
you  that,  before  I  sleep  to-night,  I  will  know  what  is  in  my 
heart  and  what  are  its  relations  to  God ! " 

Mr.  Brandreth  was  standing  near,  and  heard  my  words. 
At  least,  some  voice  which  I  took  to  be  his,  whispered,  "  I 
think  it  will  be  best."  I  have  a  dim  recollection  of  getting 
out  of  the  church  by  the  door  in  the  rear  of  the  pulpit";  of 
my  aunt  walking  home  beside  me,  under  the  starry  sky, 
uttering  lamentations  to  which  I  paid  no  heed  ;  of  rushing 
breathlessly  up  the  staircase  to  my  garret,  opening  the  win 
dow,  drawing  a  chair  beside  it,  resting  my  chin  on  the  win 
dow-sill,  and  shedding  tears  of  pure  joy  and  relief  on  find 
ing  myself  alone  in  the  holy  peace  and  silence  of  the 
night.  The  presence  of  God  came  swiftly  down  to  me 
from  the  starry  deeps.  "  Here  is  my  heart ! "  cried  a  voice 
in  my  breast ;  "  look  at  it,  Father,  and  tell  me  what  I  am !  " 


122  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Then  I  seemed  to  behold  it  myself,  and  strove  to  disen 
tangle  the  roots  of  Self  from  the  memory  of  my  boyish  life, 
that  I  might  stand  apart  and  judge  it.  I  found  pride,  im 
patience,  folly ;  but  they  were  as  light  surface-waves  which 
disappeared  with  their  cause.  I  found  childish  likes  and 
dislikes ;  silly  little  enmities,  which  had  left  no  sting ; 
pranks,  instigated  by  the  spirit  of  Fun  rather  than  that  of 
Evil ;  and  later,  secret  protests  against  the  sorrows  and 
trials  of  my  life.  But  all  these  things  gave  me  less  trouble 
than  one  little  incident  which  perversely  clung  to  my  mem 
ory,  and  still  does,  with  a  sense  of  shame  which  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  overcome.  Several  of  us  boys  were  play 
ing  about  the  tavern  at  the  Cross-Keys,  one  afternoon  in 
August,  when  a  dealer  in  water-melons  came  by  with  a  cart 
load  of  them  for  sale.  We  looked  on,  with  longing  eyes 
and  watery  mouths,  while  he  disposed  of  several ;  and  at 
last  the  dealer  generously  gave  us  one  which  had  been  sev 
eral  times  "  plugged,"  and  was  cracked  at  one  end.  We 
hurried  under  the  barn-bridge  with  our  treasure,  and  agreed 
to  take  "  slice  about,"  so  as  to  have  an  equal  division.  The 
crack,  however,  divided  the  solid,  sweet,  crimson  centre 
from  the  seedy  strip  next  the  rind  —  so  we  commenced  with 
the  latter,  leaving  a  tower  of  delicious  aspect  standing  in 
the  midst  of  the  melon.  I  looked  at  it  until  I  became 
charmed,  entranced,  insane  with  desire  to  crush  its  cool, 
sugared  filigree  upon  my  tongue,  and  when  my  next  turn 
came,  stretched  forth  a  daring  hand  and  cut  off  the  tower ! 
The  other  boys  looked  at  each  other :  one  gave  a  long 
whistle  ;  one  exclaimed  "  Goy  !  "  and  the  third  added  the 
climax  by  the  sentence,  "  What  a  hog  ! "  Before  I  had  fin 
ished  eating  the  tower  it  had  turned  to  gall  and  wormwood 
in  my  mouth.  I  choked  it  down,  however,  and  went  home, 
without  touching  the  melon  again. 

That  night,  as  I  leaned  upon  the  window-sill,  and  recalled 
my  faults  and  frailties,  this  incident  came  back  and  placed 
itself  in  the  front  rank  of  my  offences.  I  could  look  calmly, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  123 

or  with  a  scarcely  felt  remainder  of  penitence,  upon  all 
else,  but  my  humiliation  for  this  act  burned  as  keenly  as 
on  the  first  day.  It  so  wearied  me,  finally,  that  I  gave  up 
the  retrospect.  I  was  satisfied  that  God's  omnipotent  love, 
not  his  wrath,  overhung  and  embraced  me  ;  that  my  heart, 
though  often  erring  and  clouded,  never  consciously  lusted 
after  Evil.  I  longed  for  its  purification,  not  for  its  change. 
I  should  not  shrink  from  Death,  if  he  approached,  through 
fear  of  the  Hereafter ;  I  might  receive  a  low  seat  in  Para 
dise,  but  I  certainly  had  done  nothing — and  would  not, 
with  God's  help  —  to  deserve  the  awful  punishment  which 
Brother  Mellowby  had  described. 

In  relating  this  portion  of  my  life,  I  trust  that  I  shall  not 
be  misunderstood.  I  owe  reverence  to  the  spirit  of  Devo 
tion,  in  whatever  form  it  is  manifested,  and  have  no  inten 
tion  of  assailing,  or  even  undervaluing,  that  which  I  have 
just  described.  There  are,  undoubtedly,  natures  which  can 
only  be  reached  by  brandishing  the  menace  of  retribution, 
—  perhaps,  also,  by  the  agency  of  strong  physical  excite 
ment.  I  do  not  belong  to  such.  Religion  enters  my  heart 
through  the  gateway  of  Love  and  not  that  of  Fear.  The 
latter  entrance  was  locked  and  the  key  thrown  away,  al 
most  before  I  can  remember  it.  Brother  Mellowby's  revi 
val  had  an  influence  upon  my  after-fortunes,  as  will  be  seen 
presently,  and  I  therefore  relate  it  precisely  as  it  occurred. 

Two  hours  passed  away  while  I  sat  at  the  open  window. 
I  cannot  now  reproduce  all  the  movements  of  my  mind,  nor 
follow  the  devious  ways  by  which,  at  the  last,  I  reached  the 
important  result  —  peace.  When  it  was  over,  I  felt  languid 
in  body,  but  at  heart  immensely  cheered  and  strengthened. 
I  foresaw  that  trouble  awaited  me,  but  I  was  better  armed 
to  meet  it. 

I  had  scarcely  gone  to  bed,  before  Bolty  made  his  ap 
pearance.  From  the  suppressed  shouts  of  "  Glory !  Glo 
ry  !  "  as  he  was  ascending  the  last  flight  of  stairs,  I  knew 
that  he  had  "  got  through,"  —  to  use  Uncle  Amos's  expres- 


124  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

sion.  I  therefore  counterfeited  sleep,  and  was  regaled  with 
snatches  of  triumphant  hymns,  and  a  very  long  and  hoarsely 
audible  prayer,  delivered  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  before  he 
became  subdued  enough  to  sleep.  The  powers  of  his  big 
body  must  have  been  severely  taxed,  for,  when  I  arose  in 
the  morning,  he  still  lay  locked  in  a  slumber  as  heavy  and 
motionless  as  death.  In  fact,  he  did  not  awake  until  nearly 
noon,  Uncle  Amos  not  allowing  him  to  be  disturbed.  The 
latter  looked  at  me  sharply  and  frequently  during  the  day, 
but  he  had  no  opportunity  for  reference  to  my  spiritual  con 
dition,  except  in  the  course  of  the  unusually  prolonged 
grace  at  dinner.  He  prayed  with  unction  both  for  Bolty 
and  myself. 

In  the  evening,  when  he  announced  that  we  might  again 
put  up  the  shutters  at  eight  o'clock,  in  order  to  attend  the 
services,  I  quietly  said,  — 

"  It  is  n't  necessary,  Uncle  Amos.  I  am  not  going  to 
your  church  this  evening." 

He  grew  very  red  about  the  jaws,  and  the  veins  on  his 
forehead  swelled.  "  What  did  you  promise  me  last  even 
ing  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  have  kept  my  promise,"  I  answered.  "  It  would  be 
a  mockery  if  I  should  go  forward  with  the  rest  to  repent  of 
sins  which  have  been  already  forgiven.  I  understand,  now, 
what  you  mean  by  a  change  of  heart,  but  I  do  not  need  it." 

Uncle  Amos  threw  up  his  hands  and  exclaimed,  "  Lord, 
deliver  me  from  vanity  of  heart ! "  Aunt  Peggy,  in  her 
dingy  bombazine  bonnet,  fell  into  spasms  of  clucking,  and 
this  time  did  really  shed  a  few  tears  as  she  cried,  "  To  think 
that  one  o'  my  family  should  be  so  hardened  !  " 

"  I  should  like  to  know  where  the  Pharisees  are  now  !  " 
I  cried,  hot  with  anger. 

"  Come,  wife,  —  let  us  pray  to-night  for  the  obdoorate 
sinner  !  "  said  my  uncle,  taking  her  by  the  arm.  Bolty  fol 
lowed,  and  they  all  went  to  church,  leaving  me  in  the  store. 

After  I  had  closed  for  the  night,  I  resumed  my  post  at 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  125 

the  bedroom-window,  and  reflected  upon  my  probable  po 
sition  in  the  house.  It  had  hitherto  been  barely  endurable 
to  a  youth  of  my  tastes  and  my  ambition,  but  now  I  foresaw 
that  it  would  become  insupportable.  Neither  uncle  nor 
aunt,  I  was  sure,  would  ever  look  upon  me  with  favor ;  and 
even  Bolty,  who  had  thus  far  tacitly  befriended  me,  might 
think  it  his  duty  to  turn  informer  and  persecutor.  I  much 
more  than  earned  my  board  by  my  services,  and  therefore 
recognized  no  moral  obligation  towards  my  uncle.  The  le 
gal  one  still  existed,  but  it  could  not  force  me  to  lead  a 
slavish  and  unhappy  life  against  my  will.  I  should  not  get 
possession  of  my  little  property  for  a  year  and  a  half;  but 
I  could  certainly  trust  to  my  own  resources  of  hand  or  brain, 
in  the  meantime.  The  matter  was  soon  settled  in  my  mind : 
I  would  leave  "A.  Woolley's  Grocery  Store  "  forever. 


126  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER   X. 

CONCERNING    MY    ESTABLISHMENT    IN    UPPER    SAMARIA. 

I  DEVOTED  my  first  leisure  hour  to  a  confidential  visit  to 
Charley  Band.  His  smooth,  amiable  ways  had  done  much 
to  make  our  intercourse  closer  than  it  ever  had  been  at 
school,  though  there  was  still  something  in  his  face  which 
led  me  occasionally  to  distrust  him.  His  mottled  gray 
eyes,  which  could  look  at  one  steadily  and  sweetly,  were 
generally  restless,  and  the  mellowness  of  his  voice  some 
times  showed  its  want  of  perfect  training  by  slipping  into 
a  harsher  natural  tone.  Besides,  he  was  a  little  too  demon 
strative.  His  habit  of  putting  his  hand  on  my  shoulder 
and  commencing  a  remark  with  (emphasizing  every  word) 
"Mr — DEAR  —  FRIEND,"  made  me  feel  uncomfortable. 
Nevertheless,  his  presence  in  Reading  was  a  satisfaction  to 
me,  and  I  bestowed  a  great  deal  of  friendly  affection  upon 
him  for  the  reason  that  there  was  no  one  else  to  whom  I 
could  give  it. 

To  him,  then,  I  related  all  that  had  happened.  The 
habit  of  the  future  lawyer  seemed  to  be  already  creeping 
over  him.  He  interrupted  my  narrative  with  an  occasional 
question,  in  order  to  make  certain  points  clearer,  and,  when 
I  had  finished,  meditated  a  while  in  silence.  "  It 's  a  pity," 
he  said  at  last,  "  that  I  'm  not  already  admitted  to  practice, 
and  sporting  my  own  shingle.  I  should  like  to  know  your 
uncle,  anyhow :  can't  you  introduce  me  ?  " 

I  felt  a  great  repugnance  to  this  proposal,  and  urged 
Rand  not  to  insist  upon  it. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  he,  carelessly,  "  it 's  of  no  consequence, 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  127 

except  on  your  account.  I  'm  sure  I  have  no  inclination  to 
meet  the  old  porpoise.  But  I  'd  advise  you  to  work  along, 
the  best  way  you  can,  until  you  can  get  a  better  hook  on 
him  than  you  have  now." 

"  No,  Rand  !  "  I  interrupted,  "  my  mind  is  made  up.  I 
shall  leave  his  house." 

In  the  course  of  the  conversation  Rand  had  managed  to 
extract  from  me  the  amount  of  my  own  little  property,  and 
the  disposition  of  the  interest  due  the  previous  spring, 
the  greater  part  of  which  I  had  allowed  my  uncle  to  rein 
vest.  He  also  questioned  me  concerning  the  latter's  for 
tune,  and  seemed  desirous  to  know  a  great  many  partic 
ulars  which  had  no  apparent  bearing  on  the  present  crisis 
in  my  fortunes.  Our  talk  ended,  however,  in  my  repeat 
ing  my  determination  to  leave. 

"  I  hoped,  Rand,"  I  added,  "  that  you  could  advise  me 
what  to  do.  I  can  only  think  of  two  things, —  teaching  a 
country  school,  or  getting  a  situation  in  another  store.  Of 
course,  I  should  rather  teach." 

"  Then,  if  you  are  bent  upon  it,  Godfrey,  I  think  I  can 
help  you.  One  of  Mulford's  clients,  from  Upper  Samaria 
township,  —  not  far  from  Cardiff,  you  know,  —  was  talking 
about  a  teacher  for  their  school,  three  or  four  days  ago. 
He  's  a  director,  and  has  the  most  say,  as  he  's  a  rich  old 
fellow.  I  '11  tell  Mulford  to  recommend  you,  if  you  've  a 
mind  to  try  it,  and  meanwhile  you  can  write  to  Dr.  Dymond 
for  a  certificate  of  your  fitness.  If  the  plan  succeeds  — 
and  I  don't  see  why  it  should  n't  —  you  may  say  good-bye 
to  the  old  porpoise  in  less  than  ten  days." 

I  seized  Rand's  hand  and  poured  out  my  gratitude  ;  here 
was  a  way  opened  at  once  !  I  should  have  pleasant  em 
ployment  for  the  winter,  at  least,  and  a  little  capital  in  the 
spring  to  pursue  my  fortune  further.  The  same  evening  I 
wrote  to  Dr.  Dymond,  and  in  four  days  received  a  stiffly- 
worded  but  very  flattering  testimony  of  my  capacities.  In 
the  beginning  of  the  next  week,  Mulford's  client,  a  Mr. 


128  JOHN    GODFREY'S     FORTUNES. 

Bratton,  came  again  to  Reading,  and  Rand  was  as  good  as 
his  word.  He  recommended  me  so  strongly  that  Mr.  B. 
requested  an  interview,  which  was  at  once  arranged.  Rand 
came  for  me,  and  we  met  in  Mulford's  back-office. 

The  director,  upon  whom  my  success  mainly  depended, 
was  a  bluff,  hearty  man,  with  a  pompous  and  patronizing 
manner.  "  Ah,  you  are  the  young  man,"  he  said,  stretch 
ing  out  his  hand,  and  surveying  ine  the  while  from  head  to 
foot,  —  "  should  have  liked  a  little  more  signs  of  authority, 
—  very  necessary  where  there  are  big  boys  in  the  school. 
However,  Mine  is  not  a  rough  neighborhood,  —  very  much 
in  advance  of  Lower  Samaria." 

I  handed  him  Dr.  Dymond's  letter,  which  he  ran  through, 
with  audible  comments  ;  —  "  *  promising  scholar  '  —  good, 
but  hardly  enough  for  Me  ;  — '  thorough  acquaintance  with 
grammar '  —  ah,  very  good  —  My  own  idee  ;  — '  talent  for 
composition,'  i  Latin,'  —  rather  ornamental,  ra-a-ther  ;  — 
hem,  '  all  branches  of  arithmetic '  —  that 's  more  like  busi 
ness.  A  very  good  recommendation,  upon  the  whole.  How 
much  do  you  expect  to  be  paid  ?  " 

I  replied  that  I  wanted  no  more  than  the  usual  remuner 
ation,  admitting  that  I  had  never  yet  taught  school,  but 
that  I  should  make  every  effort  to  give  satisfaction. 

"  We  pay  from  twenty  to  twenty-five  dollars  a  month," 
said  he  ;  "  but  you  could  n't  expect  more  than  twenty  at  the 
start.  You  're  a  pig  in  a  poke,  you  know." 

This  was  not  very  flattering ;  but  as  I  saw  that  no  offence 
was  intended,  I  took  none.  Nay,  I  even  smiled  good- 
humoredly  at  Mr.  Bratton's  remark,  and  thereby  won  his 
good-will.  When  we  parted,  the  engagement  was  almost 
made. 

"  For  form's  sake,"  said  he,  "  I  must  consult  the  other 
directors ;  but  I  venture  to  say  that  My  recommendation 
will  be  sufficient.  If  you  come,  I  shall  depend  upon  you 
to  justify  My  selection." 

I  now  judged  it  necessary  to  inform  my  uncle  of  the  con- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  129 

templated  step.  I  presume  the  idea  of  it  had  never  en 
tered  his  head ;  his  surprise  was  so  great  that  he  seemed 
at  a  loss  what  course  to  take.  When  he  found  that  both 
opposition  and  ridicule  were  of  no  avail,  he  tried  persua 
sion,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  promise  me  immunity  from 
persecution  in  religious  matters. 

"  We  will  let  that  rest  for  the  present,"  said  he.  "  My 
ways  a'n't  your'n,  though  I  've  tried  to  bring  you  to  a  proper 
knowledge  of  your  soul,  for  your  own  good.  I  promised 
your  mother  I  'd  do  my  dooty  by  you,  but  you  don't  seem 
to  take  it  in  a  numble  spirit.  But  now  you  're  acquainted 
with  business,  in  a  measure,  and  likely  to  turn  out  well  if 
you  stick  to  it.  I  'd  always  reckoned  on  paying  you  a  sel- 
ery  after  you  come  of  age ;  it 's  a  sort  of  apprenticeship 
till  then.  And  you  've  a  little  capital,  and  can  make  it 
more.  I  don't  say  but  what  I  could  n't  take  you,  in  the 
course  of  time,  as  a  pardner  in  the  concern." 

I  tried  to  explain  that  my  taste  and  ambition  lay  in  a 
totally  opposite  direction,  —  that  I  neither  could  nor  would 
devote  my  life  to  the  mysteries  of  the  grocery  business.  It 
required  some  time  to  make  my  uncle  comprehend  my  sin 
cerity.  He  looked  upon  the  matter  as  the  temporary  whim 
of  a  boy.  When,  at  last,  he  saw  that  my  determination 
was  inflexible,  his  anger  returned,  more  violently  than  at 
first. 

"  Go,  then  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  I  wash  my  hands  of  you  !  But 
this  let  me  tell  you  —  look  out  for  yourself  till  you  're 
twenty-one  !  Not  a  penny  of  your  money  will  I  advance 
till  the  law  tells  me,  —  and  more,  not  a  penny  of  mine  will 
you  get  when  I  die  !  " 

These  words  roused  an  equal  anger  in  my  heart.  I  felt 
myself  turning  white,  and  my  voice  trembled  in  spite  of 
myself  as  I  exclaimed,  "  Keep  your  accursed  money !  Do 
you  think  I  would  soil  my  fingers  with  it  ?  Holy  as  you 
are,  and  sinful  as  I  am,  I  look  down  upon  you  and  thank 
God  no  mean  thoughts  ever  entered  my  heart ! " 


130  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

The  breach  was  now  impassable.  I  had  cut  off  the  last 
bridge  to  reconciliation.  Nothing  more  was  said,  and  I 
quietly  and  speedily  made  my  preparations  for  leaving  the 
house.  Bolty,  whose  manner  had  become  exceedingly 
mild  and  subdued  since  his  conversion,  did  not  seem  much 
surprised  by  the  catastrophe.  Perhaps  he  regretted  the 
loss  of  a  companion,  but  his  personal  emotions  were  too 
shallow  to  give  him  much  uneasiness.  I  watched,  with 
some  curiosity,  to  see  whether  he  would  still  recommend 
his  patent-medicines  in  the  accustomed  style;  but  even 
here  he  was  changed.  With  an  air  of  quiet  gravity,  he 
affirmed,  "  The  pills  is  reckoned  to  be  very  good  ;  we  sell 
a  great  many,  ma'am.  Them  that  cares  for  their  perishin' 
bodies  is  relieved  by  'em." 

This  mode  of  recommendation  seemed  to  be  just  as  ef 
fectual  as  the  former. 

Two  days  afterwards  a  note  arrived  from  Mr.  Bratton 
and  I  left  my  uncle's  house.  There  were  no  touching  fare 
wells,  and  no  tears  shed  except  Aunt  Peggy's,  as  she  ex 
claimed,  u  I  would  n't  have  believed  it  of  you  ;  but  you  '11 
rue  it !  —  ts,  ts,  ts,  ts,  —  you  '11  rue  it,  too  late  ! "  In  spite 
of  this  evil  prediction,  I  think  she  must  have  felt  a  little 
shame  at  seeing  her  sister's  child  leave  her  doors  in  the 
way  I  did. 

A  rude  mail-coach  took  me  as  far  as  Cardiff,  where  I 
left  my  trunk  at  the  tavern,  and  set  out  on  foot  for  the  res 
idence  of  Mr.  Bratton.  It  was  Friday ;  I  was  to  be  pre 
sented  to  the  directors  on  Saturday,  and  to  open  school  on 
Monday.  Upper  Samaria  was  only  three  miles  from  Car 
diff,  —  the  latter  place,  a  village  of  some  four  hundred  in 
habitants,  being  the  post-office  for  the  region  round  about. 

It  was  a  bright,  cheery  day.  A  bracing  wind  blew  from 
the  northwest,  shaking  the  chestnuts  from  their  burrs  and 
the  shell-barks  from  their  split  hulls.  The  farmers  and 
their  men  sat  in  the  fields,  each  before  his  overturned 
shock,  and  husked  the  long,  yellow  ears  of  corn.  I  passed 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  131 

a  load  of  apples  on  their  way  to  the  cider-press,  and  the 
sunburnt  driver  grinned  with  simple  good-will  as  he  tossed 
me  a  ruddy  "  wine-sap."  Never  before  had  I  breathed  so 
exquisite  an  atmosphere  of  freedom.  I  stood  at  last  on  my 
own  independent  feet,  in  the  midst  of  the  bright  autumnal 
world.  Wind  and  sun,  the  rustling  trees  and  the  hasten 
ing  waters,  the  laborers  looking  up  as  I  passed,  and  some 
where,  deep  in  the  blue  overhead,  the  gpirit  that  orders 
and  upholds  every  form  of  life,  seemed  to  recognize  me  as 
a  creature  competent  to  take  charge  of  his  own  destiny. 
On  the  hilltops  I  paused  and  stretched  forth  my  arms  like 
a  discoverer  taking  possession  of  new  lands.  The  old  con 
tinent  of  dependence  and  subjection  lay  behind  me,  and  I 
saw  the  green  shores  of  the  free,  virgin  world. 

Happy  ignorance  of  youth  that  grasps  life  as  a  golden 
bounty,  not  as  a  charge  to  be  guarded  with  sleepless  eyes 
and  weary  heart !  Surely  some  movement  of  Divine  Pity 
granted  us  that  blindness  of  vision  in  which  we  only  see 
the  bloom  of  blood  on  cheek  and  lip,  not  the  dark  roots 
that  branch  below  —  the  garlanded  mask  of  joy  hiding  the 
tragic  mystery  ! 

After  a  while  the  rolling  upland  over  which  I  had  been 
wandering,  sank  gently  towards  the  southeast  into  a  broad, 
softly  outlined  valley,  watered  by  a  considerable  stream. 
The  landlord  at  Cardiff  had  given  me  minute  directions, 
so  that  when  I  saw  a  large  mill-pond  before  me,  with  a  race 
leading  to  an  old  stone-mill,  a  white  house  behind  two  im 
mense  weeping-willows  on  the  left,  and  a  massive  brick 
house  on  the  right,  across  the  stream,  I  knew  that  the  lat 
ter  edifice  must  be  the  residence  of  Mr.  (or  "  Squire  "  ) 
Septimus  Bratton.  The  main  highway  followed  the  base 
of  some  low,  gradual  hills  on  the  left  bank,  and  a  furlong 
beyond  "  Yule's  Mill,"  as  the  place  was  called,  I  noticed  a 
square,  one-story  hut,  with  pyramidal  roof,  which  I  was 
sure  must  be  the  school-house.  A  little  further,  another 
road  came  across  the  hills  from  the  eastward,  and  at  the 


132  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

junction  there  were  a  dozen  buildings,  comprising,  as  I 
afterwards  discovered,  the  store,  blacksmith's  and  shoe 
maker's  shops,  and  the  "  Buck  "  Tavern,  where,  on  election- 
days,  the  polls  for  Upper  Samaria  were  held.  Down  the 
stream,  the  view  extended  for  two  or  three  miles  over  rich 
and  admirably  cultivated  farm-land,  interspersed  with  noble 
tracts  of  wood,  and  with  clumps  of  buttonwood-  and  ash- 
trees  along  the  course  of  the  stream. 

Mr.  Bratton's  house  stood  upon  a  knoll,  commanding  a 
very  agreeable  view  of  the  valley.  It  was  a  large  cube  of 
red  brick,  with  high  double  chimneys  at  each  end,  and  a 
veranda  in  front  supported  by  white  Ionic  columns  of 
wood.  A  dense  environment  of  Athenian  poplars  and  sil 
ver-maples  buried  the  place  in  shade,  while  the  enclosure 
sloping  down  to  the  road  was  dotted  with  balsam-fir  and 
arbor-vitae.  The  fact  that  this  lawn  —  if  it  could  Jbe  so 
called  —  covered  an  acre  of  ground,  and  was  grown  with 
irregular  tufts,  of  natural  grass,  instead  of  being  devoted 
to  potatoes,  indicated  wealth.  In  the  rear  rose  a  huge 
barn,  with  a  stable-yard  large  enough  to  hold  a  hundred 
cattle. 

I  walked  up  a  straight  central  path,  trodden  in  the  grass, 
and  ungravelled,  to  the  front-door,  and  knocked.  Foot 
steps  sounded  somewhere  within  and  then  died  away  again. 
After  waiting  ten  minutes,  I  repeated  the  knocking,  and 
presently  the  door  was  opened.  I  beheld  a  lovely  girl  of 
seventeen,  in  a  pale  green  dress,  which  brought  a  faint  rose- 
tint  to  a  face  naturally  colorless.  Her  light  gray  eyes  rested 
gently  on  mine,  and  I  know  that  I  blushed  with  surprise 
and  confusion.  She  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  embar 
rassed,  but  stood  silently  waiting  for  me  to  speak. 

"  Is  Mr.  Bratton  at  home  ?  "  I  finally  stammered. 

"  Pa  and  Ma  have  gone  to  Carterstown  this  afternoon," 
said  she,  in  the  smoothest,  evenest,  most  delicious  voice  I 
had  ever  heard.  "  They  will  be  back  soon  ;  will  you  walk 
in  and  wait  ?  " 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  133 

"  Yes,  if  you  please,"  I  answered.  "  I  think  Mr.  Brat- 
ton  expects  me  ;  my  name  is  Godfrey." 

I  am  sure  she  had  already  guessed  who  I  was.  She  be 
trayed  no  sign  of  the  fact,  however,  but  demurely  led  the 
way  to  a  comfortable  sitting-room,  asked  me  to  take  a  seat, 
and  retired,  leaving  me  alone.  I  stole  across  the  carpet  to 
a  small  mirror  between  the  windows,  straitened  the  bow  of 
my  cravat,  ran  my  fingers  through  my  hair  to  give  it  a 
graceful  disposition,  and  examined  my  features  one  by  one, 
imagining  how  they  would  appear  to  a  stranger's  eye. 

I  had  scarcely  resumed  my  seat  before  Miss  Bratton  re 
turned,  with  a  blue  pitcher  in  one  hand  and  a  tumbler  in 
the  other. 

"  Will  you  have  a  glass  of  new  cider,  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  " 
she  asked,  dropping  her  eyes  an  instant.  "  It 's  sweet," 
she  added ;  "  you  can  take  it  without  breaking  the  pledge." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  I  answered  ;  for,  although  I  was  not  a 
member  of  a  Temperance  Society,  I  thought  she  might  be. 
She  stood  near  me,  holding  the  pitcher  while  I  drank,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  a  noise  of  deglutition  in  my 
throat  which  might  be  heard  all  over  the  house. 

She  took  a  seat  near  the  opposite  window,  with  some  sort 
of  net-work  in  her  hand.  I  felt  that  it  was  incumbent  on 
me  to  commence  the  conversation,  which  I  did  awkwardly 
enough,  I  suppose,  her  slow,  even,  liquid  words  forming  a 
remarkable  contrast  to  my  rapid  and  random  utterances. 
At  length,  however,  I  got  so  far  as  to  inform  her  that  I 
hoped  to  teach  in  the  neighboring  school-house  during  the 
coming  winter. 

"  Ind-e-e-ed ! "  she  exclaimed,  in  an  accent  of  polite, 
subdued  interest.  "  Then  we  shall  be  neighbors ;  for  I 
suppose  you  will  board  at  Yule's.  All  the  schoolmasters 
do." 

"  The  white  house  with  the  willows  ?  " 

"Yes.  Mr.  Yule  is  Pa's  miller.  He  has  been  there 
twenty  years,  I  think  Pa  said.  I  'm  sure  it  was  long  before 


134  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  was  born.  They  are  very  respectable  people,  and  it's 
nicer  there  than  to  board  at '  The  Buck.' " 

I  was  about  to  reply  that  the  choice  of  the  directors 
must  be  made  before  I  could  engage  board  anywhere,  when 
she  interrupted  me  with,  "  Oh,  there  's  Pa's  carriage  just 
turning  the  corner.  Excuse  me ! "  and  walked  from  the 
room  with  a  swift,  graceful  step. 

In  a  few  minutes  I  heard  a  heavy  foot,  followed  by  a 
rustling,  along  the  veranda,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Septimus 
Bratton  entered  the  room.  The  former  greeted  me  with 
stately  cordiality.  "  I  see,"  said  he,  "  that  you  have  already 
made  my  daughter's  acquaintance.  My  dear,  this  is  Mr. 
Godfrey,  whom  /  have  recommended  as  our  teacher  this 
winter." 

Mrs.  Bratton,  a  sharp-featured  little  woman,  swathed  in 
an  immense  white  crape  shawl,  advanced  and  gave  me  her 
hand.  "  How  d'  ye  do,  sir  ?  "  she  piped,  in  a  shrill  voice ; 
"  hope  you  've  not  been  kept  long  a-waiting  ?  " 

Then  she  and  the  daughter  retired,  and  Mr.  Bratton 
flung  his  hat  upon  the  table  and  sat  down.  "I  guess 
there  '11  be  no  difficulty  to-morrow,"  he  remarked ;  "  I  've 
seen  Bailey,  one  of  the  directors,  and  he  's  willing  to  abide 
by  Me.  As  for  Carter,  he  thinks  something  of  his  learn 
ing,  and  always  has  a  few  questions  to  ask  ;  but  we  had  a 
poor  shoat  last  winter,  of  his  choosing,  and  so  you  '11  have 
the  better  chance.  You  '11  board  at  Yule's,  but  you  may  as 
well  stay  here  till  to-morrow,  after  we  meet.  'T  is  n't  good 
luck  to  give  a  baby  its  name  before  it 's  christened.  You 
can  send  up  to  Cardiif  for  your  things  when  the  matter  is 
settled." 

"We  were  presently  summoned  to  the  early  tea-table  of 
the  country.  When  Mrs.  Bratton  was  about  to  take  her 
seat,  her  daughter  murmured  —  oh,  so  musically  !  —  "  Let 
me  pour  out,  Ma  —  you  must  be  tired." 

"  Well,  have  your  own  way,  'Manda,"  said  the  mother ; 
"  you  '11  be  getting  your  hand  in,  betimes." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  135 

I  was  first  served,  the  lovely  Amanda  kindly  asking  me, 
"  Shall  I  season  your  tea  for  you,  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  " 

It  was  the  sweetest  cup  I  had  ever  tasted. 

"  Where  's  Sep  ?  "  suddenly  asked  Mr.  Bratton. 

"  I  've  sent  out  to  the  barn  and  down  to  the  mill,  but 
they  don't  seem  to  find  him,"  his  wife  remarked. 

"  I  '11  go  to  <  The  Buck,'  then ;  but  I  won't  go  much 
oftener." 

I  saw  wife  and  daughter  suddenly  glance  at  him,  and  he 
said  no  more.  But  he  was  in  a  visible  ill-humor.  There 
was  a  lack  of  lively  conversation  during  the  evening,  yet  to 
me  the  time  passed  delightfully.  Miss  Bratton,  I  discov 
ered,  had  just  returned  from  the  celebrated  School  for 
Young  Ladies  at  Bethlehem,  and  was  considered,  in  Upper 
Samaria,  as  a  model  of  female  accomplishment.  She  had 
learned  to  write  Italian  hand,  to  paint  tulips  and  roses  on 
white  velvet,  to  make  wax-flowers,  and  even  to  play  the 
piano ;  and  an  instrument  ordered  by  her  father,  at  the  T*  - 
mense  price  of  two  hundred  dollars,  was  then  on  its  wa} 
from  Philadelphia.  These  particulars  I  learned  afterwards 
from  Mrs.  Yule.  During  that  evening,  however,  I  saw  and 
admired  the  brilliant  bouquets  in  mahogany  frames  which 
adorned  the  parlor-walls. 

At  nine  o'clock,  Mr.  Bratton,  who  had  already  several 
times  yawned  with  a  loud,  bellowing  noise,  rose,  took  a  candle, 
and  showed  me  to  a  large  and  very  gorgeous  chamber.  The 
bedstead  had  pillars  of  carved  mahogany,  supporting  a  can 
opy  with  curtains,  and  I  sank  into  the  huge  mass  of  feath 
ers  as  into  a  sun-warmed  cloud.  I  stretched  myself  out  in 
all  directions,  with  the  luxurious  certainty  of  not  encounter 
ing  Bolty  Himpel's  legs,  composed  my  mind  to  an  unspoken 
prayer,  and  floated  into  dreams  where  Aunt  Peggy  and 
Miss  Amanda  Bratton  had  provokingly  changed  voices. 

The  next  morning,  at  ten  o'clock,  the  directors  met  at 
the  school-house.  Mr.  Bratton,  who  had  charge  of  the  key, 
opened  the  shutters  and  let  out  the  peculiar  musty  smell, 


136  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

suggestive  of  mould,  bread  and  butter,  and  greasy  spelling- 
books,  which  had  accumulated.  He  then  took  his  seat  at 
the  master's  desk,  and  laid  the  proposal  before  Messrs. 
Bailey  and  Carter.  He  read  Dr.  Dymond's  letter  of  rec 
ommendation,  and  finished  by  saying,  "  Mr.  Godfrey,  I  be 
lieve,  is  ready  for  any  examination  you  may  wish  to  make." 

Mr.  Bailey  remarked,  in  a  sleepy  voice,  "  I  guess  that  '11 
do  ; "  but  Mr.  Carter,  a  wiry,  nervous  little  man,  pricked 
up  his  ears,  stroked  his  chin,  and  said,  "  I  Ve  got  a  few 
questions  to  put.  Spell  '  inooendo.' " 

I  spelled  in  succession  the  words  "  innuendo,"  "  exhila 
rate,"  "  peddler,"  and  "  pony,"  to  the  gentleman's  satisfac 
tion,  and  gave,  moreover,  the  case  of  the  noun  "  disobe 
dience,"  in  the  first  line  of  "  Paradise  Lost,"  and  the  verb 
which  governed  it.  Then  I  calculated  the  number  of 
boards  ten  feet  long,  thirteen  inches  wide,  and  one  inch 
thick,  which  could  be  sawed  out  of  a  pine  log  three  feet  in 
diameter  and  seventy  feet  long ;  then  the  value  of  a  hun 
dred  dollars,  at  compound  interest,  six  per  cent.,  for  twenty 
years ;  and,  finally,  the  length  of  time  it  would  take  a  man 
to  walk  a  mile,  supposing  he  made  ten  steps,  two  feet  long, 
in  a  minute,  and  for  every  two  steps  forward  took  one  step, 
one  foot  long,  backwards.  I  think  Mr.  Carter  would  have 
been  vexed  if  I  had  not  made  a  mistake  of  three  cents  on 
the  compound  interest  question.  Furthermore,  I  wrote  on 
a  sheet  of  paper,  "  Avoid  haughtiness  of  behavior  and  affec 
tation  of  manners,"  as  a  specimen  of  my  penmanship,  and 
read  aloud  parts  of  a  speech  of  Patrick  Henry,  from  the 
"  Columbian  Orator."  Geography  and  the  various  branches 
of  natural  philosophy  were  passed  over  in  silence,  and  I 
was  a  little  surprised  that  the  fact  of  my  never  having 
taught  school  before  was  not  brought  forward  in  objection. 
After  Mr.  Carter  had  exhausted  his  budget  of  questions,  I 
was  requested  to  step  outside  for  a  few  minutes  while  the 
directors  consulted. 

When  Mr.  Bratton  called  me,  I  saw  by  his  slightly  m- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  137 

creased  pomposity  that  I  was  accepted.  His  choice  was 
confirmed  ;  and  as  the  "  poor  shoat "  of  the  previous  win 
ter  had  been  taken  on  Carter's  recommendation,  it  was 
now  my  patron's  turn  to  triumph.  My  salary  was  fixed 
at  twenty-five  dollars  a  month,  and  I  was  gratified  to  find 
that  my  board  and  washing  at  Yule's  would  cost  me  but  a 
dollar  and  a  half  per  week.  This  secured  me  the  prospect 
of  a  capital  of  some  fifty  or  sixty  dollars  in  the  spring. 

Mr.  Bratton  completed  his  patronage  by  presenting  me 
to  the  Yule  family.  The  plain,  honest  face  of  the  old  miller 
made  a  fatherly  impression  upon  me,  and  Mrs.  Yule,  a 
bustling,  talkative  woman,  —  a  chronicle  of  all  the  past  and 
present  gossip  of  the  neighborhood,  —  accepted  me  as  a 
predestined  member  of  the  family.  She  had  already  put 
"  the  master's  room  "  in  order,  she  said  ;  it  never  went  by 
any  other  name  in  the  house,  and  she  allowed  a  fire  in  cold 
weather,  only  "  the  master "  always  carried  up  his  own 
wood,  and  kindled  it,  and  raked  the  ashes  carefully  before 
going  to  bed ;  and  Daniel  was  going  to  Cardiff  that  very 
night  for  the  paper,  and  he  should  take  the  light  cart  and 
bring  my  trunk,  —  so  I  could  stop  then  and  there,  while  I 
was  about  it.  Which  I  did. 

"  Daniel "  was  the  older  son,  —  a  tall,  lusty  fellow  of 
twenty-four.  There  was  a  younger,  Isaac,  about  my  own 
age,  and  a  daughter,  Susan,  between  the  two.  I  met  the 
whole  family  at  dinner,  and,  before  the  meal  was  over,  felt 
that  I  was  fast  becoming  an  Upper  Samaritan. 


138  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER   XL 

CONTAINING     BRATTON's     PART*     AND     THE     EPISODE      OF 
THE     LIME-KILN. 

WHEN  I  opened  school  on  Monday  morning,  I  had  some 
twenty  pupils,  mostly  the  younger  children  of  the  neighbor 
ing  farmers.  The  late  autumn  was  unusually  clear  and 
mild,  and  the  larger  boys  were  still  needed  in  the  fields.  I 
was  glad  of  this  chance,  as  it  enabled  me  the  more  easily  to 
get  the  machinery  of  the  school  in  motion  and  familiarize 
myself  with  my  duties.  I  recollected  enough  of  our  com 
mencement-days  at  the  Cross- Keys  to  form  my  pupils  into 
classes  and  arrange  the  order  of  exercises.  So  far  as  the 
giving  of  instruction  was  concerned,  I  had  no  misgivings, 
but  I  feared  the  natural  and  universal  rebellion  of  children 
against  rules  which  impose  quiet  and  application  of  mind. 
Accordingly,  I  took  the  master's  seat  at  my  desk  on  a  small 
raised  platform,  with  stern  gravity  of  countenance,  and  in 
stantly  checked  the  least  tendency  to  whisper  or  giggle 
among  my  subjects.  The  process  was  exhausting,  and  I 
should  like  to  know  which  side  felt  the  greatest  relief  when 
the  first  day  came  to  an  end. 

In  a  short  time,  however,  as  I  came  to  know  the  faces 
and  dispositions  of  the  children,  I  found  it  necessary  to  re 
lax  something  of  this  assumed  strictness.  Dr.  Dymond's 
method,  which  I  had  found  so  pleasant,  seemed  to  me  bet 
ter  adapted  to  their  needs,  also,  and  I  frequently  interrupted 
the  regular  sequence  of  the  lessons  in  order  to  communicate 
general  intelligence,  especially  of  a  geographical  or  histor 
ical  character,  wherein  they  were  all  lamentably  deficient. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  139 

I  had  a  great  liking  for  oral  narrative,  and  perhaps  some 
talent  in  constructing  it,  for  I  always  found  these  breaks 
more  efficient  to  preserve  order  than  my  sternest  scolding. 

I  soon  saw  that  the  children  enjoyed  my  method  of  in 
struction.  Many  a  bell-flower  and  fall  pippin  was  laid  upon 
my  desk  in  the  morning,  and  some  of  the  girls,  noticing 
that  I  gathered  gentians  and  late  asters  in  the  meadows 
during  their  nooning,  brought  me  bunches  of  chrysanthe 
mums  from  their  mothers'  flower-beds.  I  should  have  soon 
found  my  place  insupportable,  had  I  been  surrounded  by 
hostile  hearts,  children's  though  they  were,  and  was  there 
fore  made  happy  by  seeing  that  my  secret  favorites  returned 
my  affection  in  their  own  shy  way.  Mrs.  Yule,  who  had  a 
magnetic  ear  for  hearing  everything  that  was  said  within  a 
radius  of  two  miles,  informed  me  that  I  was  much  better 
liked  by  the  pupils  than  last  winter's  master,  though  some 
of  the  parents  thought  that  I  told  them  too  many  "  fancy 
things." 

This  was  the  sunny  side  of  the  business,  so  far  as  it  had 
one.  On  the  other  hand  I  grew  weary  to  death  of  enlight 
ening  the  stupidity  of  some  of  the  boys,  and  disgusted  with 
their  primitive  habits.  I  shuddered  when  I  was  obliged  to 
touch  their  dirty,  sprawling,  warty  hands,  or  when  my  eyes 
fell  upon  the  glazed  streaks  on  their  sleeves.  They  sur 
rounded  me  with  unwashed  smells,  and  scratched  their 
heads  more  than  was  pleasant  to  behold.  Physical  beauty 
was  scarce  among  them,  and  natural  refinement,  in  any  sen 
sible  degree,  entirely  absent.  A  few  had  frank,  warm 
hearts,  and  hints  of  undeveloped  nobility  in  their  natures, 
but  coarseness  and  selfishness  were  predominant.  My  ex 
perience  convinced  me  that  I  should  never  become  a  bene 
factor  of  the  human  race.  It  was  not  the  moral  sentiment 
in  the  abstract,  but  that  of  certain  individuals,  which  in 
spired  me  with  interest. 

My  home  at  the  white  house  behind  the  willows  was  a 
very  agreeable  one.  There  was  a  grand  old  kitchen,  paved 


140  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

with  flag-stones,  and  with  a  chimney  large  enough  to  con 
tain  a  high-backed  wooden  settle,  on  either  side  of  the  fire. 
Here  the  old  miller  and  Dan  smoked  their  pipes  after  sup 
per,  while  Mrs.  Yule  and  Susan  pared  apples,  or  set  the 
bread  to  rise,  or  mixed  buckwheat-batter  for  next  morn 
ing's  cakes.  I  could  place  my  tallow-candle  in  a  little  niche, 
or  pocket,  of  the  jamb,  and  read  undisturbed,  until  some 
quaint  lore  of  the  neighborhood  drew  me  from  the  book. 
The  windows  of  my  room  in  the  southeastern  corner  of  the 
house  were  wrapped  about  with  the  trailing  willow-boughs  ; 
but,  as  their  leaves  began  to  fall,  I  discovered  that  I  should 
have  a  fine  winter  view  down  the  valley. 

The  miller  was  one  of  those  quiet,  unmarked  natures, 
which,  like  certain  grays  in  painting,  are  agreeable  through 
their  very  lack  of  positive  character.  He  suggested  health 
—  nothing  else  ;  and  his  son  Dan  was  made  in  his  likeness. 
I  did  not  know,  then,  why  I  liked  Dan,  but  I  suspect  now 
it  must  have  been  because  he  had  not  an  over-sensitive 
nerve  in  his  body.  His  satisfied  repose  was  the  farthest 
vibration  from  my  restless,  excitable  temperament.  Susan 
was  a  bright,  cheerful,  self-possessed  girl,  in  whose  presence 
the  shyest  youth  would  have  felt  at  ease.  She  was  not  cul 
tivated,  but  neither  was  she  ashamed  of  her  ignorance. 
Her  only  aesthetic  taste  was  for  flowers  ;  there  were  no  such 
pot  gillyflowers  and  geraniums  as  hers  in  all  Upper  Sama 
ria.  She  sewed  buttons  on  my  shirts  and  darned  the  heels 
of  my  stockings  before  my  very  eyes.  It  was  rumored  that 
she  was  engaged  to  Ben  Hannaford,  a  young  farmer  over 
the  hill  to  the  north  ;  but  she  spoke  of  him  in  so  straight 
forward  and  unembarrassed  a  way  that  I  judged  it  could 
not  be  possible.  Still,  it  was  a  fact  that  a  fire  was  made  in 
the  best  sitting-room  every  Sunday  night,  and  that  both 
Ben  and  Susan  somehow  disappeared  from  the  kitchen. 

The  ways  of  the  neighborhood  were  exceedingly  social. 
There  were  frequent  "  gatherings  "  ("  getherin's  "  was  the 
popular  term)  of  the  younger  people,  generally  on  Saturday 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  141 

evenings.  The  first  which  I  attended  -  was  given  by  Miss 
Amanda  Bratton,  about  three  weeks  after  my  arrival.  The 
impulse  thereto  was  furnished,  I  imagine,  by  the  arrival  of 
the  new  piano  from  Philadelphia.  Everybody  on  the  main 
road,  from  Carterstown  up  to  the  Buck  Tavern,  had  seen 
the  wagon  with  the  great  box  lying  on  trusses  of  straw,  as 
it  passed  along,  and  the  news  had  gone  far  to  right  and  left 
before  it  was  announced  that  "  Squire  Bratton's  "  house 
would  be  open.  Pianos  were  not  common  in  Upper  Sa 
maria  ;  indeed  there  were  none  nearer  than  Carterstown, 
and  the  young  men  and  women  were  unaccustomed  to 
other  music  than  the  flute  and  violin.  Miss  Amanda,  on 
her  father's  hint,  was  profuse  in  her  invitations  ;  he  knew 
that  the  party  would  be  much  talked  about,  both  before 
and  after  its  occurrence. 

I  walked  over  with  Dan  and  Susan  Yule,  at  dusk,  and 
found  the  company  already  arriving.  The  hall-door  was 
open,  and  we  were  received  at  the  entrance  to  the  parlor  by 
Miss  Amanda,  who  looked  lovely  in  a  pale-violet  silk.  She 
gave  me  her  hand  with  the  composure  of  an  old  acquaint 
ance,  and  I  took  it  with  a  thrill  of  foolish  happiness. 

"  He  's  not  come  yet,  Sue,"  said  she.  "  Mr.  Godfrey,  let 
me  introduce  you  to  the  gentlemen." 

I  was  presented  to  five  or  six  sturdy  fellows,  each  of 
whom  gave  me  a  tremendous  grip  of  a  large,  hard  hand,  and 
then  sat  down  in  silence.  They  were  ranged  along  one  side 
of  the  parlor-wall,  while  the  ladies  formed  a  row  on  the  op 
posite  side,  occasionally  whispering  to  each  other  below 
•  their  breath.  I  took  my  seat  at  one  end  of  the  male  col 
umn,  and  entered  into  conversation  with  my  neighbor,  which 
he  accepted  in  a  friendly  and  subdued  manner.  No  one,  I 
think,  quite  ventured  to  use  his  natural  volume  of  voice  ex 
cept  young  Septimus,  or  Sep  Bratton,  who  dodged  back 
and  forth  with  loud  explosions  of  shallow  wit  and  unjustifi 
able  laughter.  Many  eyes  were  directed  to  the  piano,  which 
stood  open  at  the  end  of  the  room,  and  it  was  evident  that 


142  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

the  tone  of  the  company  would  be  solemn  expectation  until 
the  instrument  had  been  heard. 

Squire  Bratton,  in  a  high  stock  and  sharp,  standing  col 
lar,  moved  majestically  about,  greeting  each  fresh  arrival 
with  a  mixture  of  urbanity  and  condescension.  When  all 
the  chairs  which  could  be  comfortably  placed  were  filled 
and  the  gentlemen  were  obliged  to  stand,  the  company 
began  to  break  into  groups  and  grow  more  animated. 
Then  Miss  Amanda  was  importuned  to  play. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  really  afraid,  before  so  many  !  "  she  exclaimed, 
with  a  modesty  which  charmed  me  ;  "  besides,  the  piano  is 
hardly  fit  to  be  played  on,  is  it,  Pa  ?  " 

"  Hm  —  well,"  said  her  father,  "  I  believe  it  is  a  little 
out  of  chune,  from  being  jolted  on  the  road,  but  I  guess  our 
friends  would  make  allowance  for  that." 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  "  We  sha'n't  notice  it !  "  eagerly  burst  from 
a  dozen  voices. 

After  some  further  solicitation,  Miss  Amanda  took  her 
seat,  and  a  breathless  silence  filled  the  room.  She  struck 
two  or  three  chords,  then  suddenly  ceased,  saying,  "  Oh,  I 
can't !  I  shall  shock  you  ;  the  G  is  so  flat !  " 

"  Go  on  ! "  "  It 's  splendid !  "  and  various  other  encour 
aging  cries  again  arose. 

I  happened  to  be  standing  near  the  piano,  and  she 
caught  my  eye,  expressing  its  share  of  the  general  expect 
ancy. 

"  Must  I,  indeed,  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  help 
less,  appealing  tone.  "  What  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  Tour  favorite  air,  Miss  Bratton,"  I  answered. 

She  turned  to  the  keys  again,  and,  after  a  short  prelude, 
played  the  Druids'  March  from  "  Norma,"  boldly  and  with 
a  strongly  accented  rhythm.  I  was  astonished  at  the  deli 
cacy  of  her  ear,  for  I  should  not  have  known  but  that  the 
instrument  was  in  very  good  tune. 

When  she  had  finished,  the  expressions  of  delight  were 
loud  and  long,  and  "  more  "  was  imperiously  demanded, 
coupled  with  a  request  for  a  song. 


JOHN    GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  143 

This  time  she  gave  us  "  Oh,  come  o'er  the  Moonlit 
Sea,  Love,"  and  "  The  Dream  is  Past "  ;  and  I  knew  not 
which  most  to  admire,  —  the  airy,  dancing,  tinkling  brill 
iancy  of  the  first,  or  the  passion  and  sorrow  of  the  second. 
No  one,  I  thought,  could  sing  that  song  without  feeling  the 
words  in  their  tragic  intensity :  Miss  Bratton  must  have  a 
heart  like  Zuleika  or  Gulnare. 

I  believe  I  made  a  good  appearance,  as  contrasted  with 
the  other  young  men  present.  I  had  fastened  my  cravat 
with  a  small  coral  pin  which  had  belonged  to  my  mother, 
and  this  constituted  a  distinguishing  mark  which  drew 
many  eyes  upon  me.  Little  by  little,  I  was  introduced  to 
all  the  company,  and  was  drawn  into  the  lively  chatter 
which,  in  such  communities,  takes  the  place  of  wit  and 
sentiment.  Among  others,  Susan  Yule  presented  me  to 
Miss  Verbena  Cuff,  a  plump,  rattling  girl,  who  was  not 
afraid  to  poke  a  fellow  in  the  ribs  with  her  forefinger,  and 
say,  "  Oh,  go  'long,  now  !  "  when  anything  funny  was  said. 
She  had  the  fullest,  ripest  lips,  the  largest  and  whitest 
teeth,  and  the  roundest  chin,  of  any  girl  there. 

After  the  refreshments  —  consisting  of  lemonade,  new 
cider,  and  four  kinds  of  cakes  —  were  handed  around,  we 
all  became  entirely  merry  and  unconstrained.  I  had  never 
before  "  assisted  "  at  a  party  of  the  kind,  except  as  a  juve 
nile  spectator,  and  my  enjoyment  was  therefore  immense. 
Nothing  more  was  needed  to  convince  me  that  I  was  a  full- 
grown  man.'  Whenever  I  put  my  hand  to  my  chin  I  was 
conscious  of  a  delightful,  sand-papery  feeling,  which  showed 
that  the  down  I  so  carefully  scraped  off  was  beginning  to 
acquire  strength,  and  would  soon  display  masculine  sub 
stance  and  color.  My  freckles  were  all  gone,  and,  as 
Neighbor  Niles  had  always  prophesied,  left  a  smooth,  fair 
skin  behind  them.  I  was  greatly  delighted  on  hearing  one 
of  the  girls  whisper,  "  He  's  quite  good-looking."  Of  course 
she  referred  to  me. 

Miss  Amanda's  album,  gilt-edged  and  gorgeously  bound 


144  JOHX  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

in  red  morocco,  lay  upon  a  side-table  under  the  mirror.  I 
picked  it  up  and  looked  over  its  contents,  in  company 
with  Miss  Verbena  Cuff.  The  leaves  were  softly  tinted 
with  pink,  green,  buff,  and  blue,  and  there  were  both  steel 
engravings  and  bunches  of  flowers  lithographed  in  colors. 
Miss  Verbena  stayed  my  hand  at  one  of  the  pictures,  rep 
resenting  a  youth  in  Glengarry  bonnet  and  knee-breeches, 
with  one  arm  round  a  maiden,  whose  waist  came  just  un 
der  her  shoulders,  while  he  waved  the  other  arm  over  a 
wheat-field.  In  the  air  above  them  two  large  birds  were 
flying. 

The  title  of  the  picture  was,  "Now  Westlin'  Win's." 

"  Mr.  Godfrey,"  said  Miss  Verbena,  "  I  want  you  to  tell 
me  what  this  picture  means;  she  won't.  /  say  '  Westlin" 
is  the  name  of  one  o'  the  birds ;  they  're  flyin'  a  race,  and 
he  thinks  i  Westlin' '  will  win  it.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

I  looked  up,  and  saw  that  "  she  "  was  standing  near  us, 
listening.  I  smiled  significantly,  with  a  side-glance  at  Miss 
Verbena.  My  smile  was  returned,  yet  with  an  expression 
of  tender  deprecation,  which  I  interpreted  as  saying, 
"  Don't  expose  her  ignorance."  I  accordingly  answered, 
with  horrid  hypocrisy,  — 

"  You  may  be  right,  Miss  Cuff.  I  never  saw  the  picture 
before."  Again  we  exchanged  delicious  glances. 

I  turned  over  the  leaves,  and  presently  stumbled  on  the 
name  of  "  Susan  Yule."  She  had  written  — 

"  Oh,  Amanda,  when  I  'm  far  away, 

To  taste  the  scenes  of  other  climes, 
And  when  fond  Memory  claims  its  sway, 

And  tells  thee  then  of  happier  times,  — 
Oh,  let  a  Tear  of  Sorrow  blend 
With  memory  of  thy  absent  Friend." 

I  was  greatly  diverted  with  the  idea  of  good,  plain, 
simple-hearted  Susan  Yule,  whose  thoughts  never  crossed 
the  township-line  of  Upper  Samaria,  going  away  to  taste 
the  scenes  of  other  climes,  but  I  did  my  best,  for  her  sake, 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  145 

to  preserve  a  serious  countenance.  I  was  rather  surprised 
to  find,  on  looking  further,  that  both  Mattie  McElroy  and 
Jemima  Ann  Hutchins  had  written  precisely  the  same 
lines. 

"  Why,"  I  exclaimed,  "  here  it  is  again !  I  thought  the 
verse  was  original.  There  must  be  a  great  scarcity  of 
album  poetry,  Miss  Bratton." 

"Ye-e-es,"  she  answered,  in  a  gentle  drawl.  "We  all 
found  it  so  at  school.  I  'm  sure  I  went  over  the  *  Elegant 
Extracts  '  ever  so  many  times,  but  there  was  so  little  that 
would  suit.  I  think  it 's  so  much  nicer  to  have  original 
poetry  !  don't  you  ?  " 

I  assented  most  enthusiastically. 

"  Perhaps  you  write  poetry,  Mr.  Godfrey  ? "  she  con 
tinued. 

I  blushed  and  stammered,  longing,  yet  shy  to  confess 
the  blissful  truth. 

"  He,  he ! "  giggled  Miss  Verbena  Cuff,  giving  me  a 
poke  with  her  forefinger ;  "  he  does  !  he  does !  I  '11  bet 
anything  on  it.  Make  him  write  something  in  your  book, 
'Manda ! " 

"  Won't  you  ?  "  murmured  Miss  Amanda,  fixing  her  soft, 
pale  eyes  full  upon  mine. 

I  blushed  all  over,  this  time.  The  red  flushed  my  skin 
down  to  my  very  toes.  My  eyelids  fell  before  the  angelic 
gaze,  and  I  muttered  something  about  being  very  happy, 
and  I  would  try,  but  I  was  afraid  she  would  n't  be  satisfied 
with  it  afterwards. 

"  But  it  must  be  right  out  of  your  own  head,  mind," 
Miss  Cuff  insisted. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Bratton,  with  slight  but  very  be 
coming  hauteur. 

"  And  then  you  must  write  something  for  me.  We  won't 
say  anything  about  it  to  the  other  girls,  'Manda,  till  they  're 
finished." 

I  was  n't  very  well  pleased  with  this  proposition,  and  it 
10 


146  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

seemed  to  me,  also,  that  the  merest  gossamer  of  a  shade 
flitted  across  Miss  Bratton's  smooth  brow.  Still,  it  was 
impossible  to  refuse,  and  I  endeavored  to  promise  with  a 
good  grace. 

"  Mine  has  the  language  of  flowers,"  said  Verbena  ;  "  I  'm 
so  sorry  that  the  Rose  is  already  writ.  I  'd  have  liked  you 
to  take  that.  There  's  Pink  and  Honeysuckle  left,  and 
something  else  that  I  disremember.  I'll  show  you  the 
book  first." 

Later  in  the  evening  it  happened  that  Miss  Bratton  and 
I  came  together  again,  with  nobody  very  near  us.  I  made 
instant  use  of  the  opportunity,  to  confirm  the  confidential 
relation  which  I  imagined  was  already  established  between 
us.  "  I  understood  you,"  I  said ;  "  did  you  ever  hear  such 
an  absurd  idea  as  she  had  ?  " 

She  was  evidently  puzzled,  but  not  startled.  Nothing, 
in  fact,  seemed  to  agitate  her  serene,  self-poised,  maidenly 
nature.  "  Oh,  the  picture  ?  "  she  said,  at  last ;  "  very  ab 
surd,  indeed." 

"  You  know  the  poem,  of  course  ?  "  I  continued. 

"  Yes,"  (slightly  smiling,)  "  I  read  it,  long  ago,  but  I  've 
forgotten  how  it  goes.  Won't  you  write  it  down  for  me  ?  " 

I  assented  at  once,  though  to  do  so  implied  the  purchase 
of  a  copy  of  Burns,  which  I  did  not  possess.  How  grate 
ful  it  was  to  find  one  in  that  material  crowd  who  knew  and 
reverenced  the  immortal  bards  among  whom  I  hoped  to 
inscribe  my  name  ! 

"  I  '11  bring  it  over  to  you,  some  evening ! "  I  exclaimed. 

She  smiled  sweetly,  but  said  nothing. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  are  fond  of  poetry  !  Do  you  ever  see 
the  Saturday  Evening  Post  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  Pa  takes  it  for  me.  There  are  such  sweet  poems 
in  it,  —  and  the  tales,  too  ! " 

Here  we  were  interrupted,  but  I  had  heard  enough  to 
turn  my  head.  She  had  certainly  read  "  The  Unknown 
Bard  "  and  all  the  other  productions  of  "  Selim  "  !  They 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  147 

were  among  the  poems,  and,  of  course,  they  too  were 
"  sweet." 

The  party  broke  up  at  midnight,  and  I  had  the  pleasure 
of  escorting  Miss  Verbena  Cuff  across  the  stream  to  Yule's 
Mill,  where  her  brother  Tom  had  left  his  horse  and  vehicle. 
We  started  with  Dan  and  Susan  Yule,  but  had  scarcely 
left  Bratton's  veranda,  before  Miss  Verbena  took  my  arm 
and  whispered,  "  Let 's  hang  back  a  little  ;  I  want  to  tell 
you  something." 

I  hung  back,  as  desired,  and  we  were  soon  alone  under 
the  dark,  starry  sky.  I  was  wrapped  in  dreams  of  Miss 
Amanda  Bratton,  the  touch  of  whose  slender  fingers  still 
burned  on  my  right  palm.  Hence  I  did  not  manifest  the 
curiosity  which  my  companion  no  doubt  awaited,  for  after 
walking  a  few  rods  in  silence,  she  said,  giving  me  a  jog 
of  her  elbow,  — 

"  Well  —  what  do  you  think  it  is  ?  " 

Thus  admonished,  I  confessed  my  inability  to  guess. 

"  I  '11  tell  you,  but  don't  you  tell  nobody.  Tom 's  going 
to  set  the  last  kiln  a-burning,  Friday  morning,  and  there  '11 
be  a  bully  blaze  by  Saturday  night.  You  know  our  house, 
don't  you  ?  —  stands  on  the  left,  a  mile  and  a  half  this  side 
of  Carterstown,  —  stone,  with  brick  chimbleys,  and  the  barn 
t'  other  side  of  the  road :  you  can't  miss  it.  Now,  I  want 
you  to  come,  and  we  '11  have  some  fun.  There  won't  be 
many,  and  I  don't  want  it  to  get  out,  —  I  'd  rather  it  would 
seem  accidental  like.  We  had  a  getherin'  three  weeks 
ago,  but,  you  know,  when  the  kiln 's  afire,  it  seems  to  'liven 
people  up.  Some  say,  the  more  the  merrier,  but  it  a'n't 
always  so." 

Here  she  gave  my  arm  an  interrogative  clutch ;  and  I, 
thinking  of  Milton's  "  fit  audience,  though  few,"  answered, 
"  No,  indeed,  Miss  Cuff;  it 's  also  true  that  the  fewer  the 
nearer  in  heart." 

"Then  you'll  come?  You'll  be  sure  and  keep  your 
word?" 


148  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  had  not  yet  given  my  word,  but  the  prospect  of  a  select 
few  assembled  around  the  burning  lime-kiln  was  weird, 
poetic,  and  by  no  means  unwelcome.  Of  course  Amanda 
Bratton  would  be  one  of  the  few,  and  I  already  speculated 
how  wonderfully  her  calm  face  would  appear  in  the  blue 
gleam  of  the  fire,  against  a  background  of  night.  I  there 
fore  exclaimed,  — 

«  Oh,  I  shall  be  delighted !  " 

"  And  you  won't  say  anything  ?  " 

"  Not  a  word  ! " 

"  Don't  even  tell  Yules.  I  like  Susan  very  much,  but 
her  fortune  's  made,  they  say,  and  I  only  want  them  that 
can  take  an  interest  in  each  other.  You  understand,  don't 
you  ?  " 

Again  I  felt  the  powerful  squeeze  of  her  arm,  and  invol 
untarily  returned  it.  She  hung  upon  and  leaned  against 
me  quite  alarmingly  after  that,  but  a  few  more  steps 
brought  us  around  the  mill  to  the  hitching-post  at  Yule's 
gate,  where  Tom  Cuff,  whip  in  hand,  stood  awaiting  her. 

"  It 's  late,  Sis,  and  we  must  be  off.  Finish  your  spark- 
in',  quick,"  he  growled,  in  a  coarse  voice. 

He  thereupon  turned  his  back,  and  Miss  Verbena,  giving 
me  her  hand,  looked  into  my  face  in  a  momentary  attitude 
of  expectation  which  I  did  not  understand.  She  jerked 
away  her  hand  again  rather  hastily,  whispered  —  "  Don't 
forget  —  next  Saturday  night !  "  and  then  added,  aloud, 
«  Good  night,  Mr.  Godfrey!" 

ft  Good  night,  Miss  Cuff ! "  I  replied,  and  they  drove 
away  as  I  was  mounting  the  projecting  steps  in  the  stone 
wall. 

That  week  I  made  use  of  "  the  master's  "  privilege,  and, 
beside  a  fire  in  my  bedroom,  devoted  myself  to  the  com 
position  of  a  poem  for  Miss  Bratton's  album.  I  wrote  four, 
and  was  then  uncertain  which  to  choose,  or  whether  any 
one  of  them  was  worthy  of  its  destined  place.  I  finally 
fixed  upon  one  entitled  "A  Parable,"  which  represented 


JOHN-  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  149 

a  wandering  bird  of  sweet  song  in  a  cold,  dark  forest  where 
the  trees  paid  no  heed  to  his  lays.  But  just  as  he  was  be 
coming  silent  forever,  from  despair  of  a  listener,  he  saw  a 
lovely  flower  lift  up  its  head,  open  the  lips  of  its  blushing 
petals,  and  ask  him  to  sing ;  so  he  built  his  nest  at  her  feet, 
and  piped  his  sweetest  song  in  the  fragrance  of  her  being. 
"  She  will  understand  it !  "  I  said  to  myself,  in  triumph  ; 
"  and  to  the  obscure,  unpoetic  minds  around  her  it  will 
simply  be  a  bit  of  fancy.  What  a  godlike  art  is  the  Poet's ! " 
Then  I  sang,  to  a  tune  of  my  own  invention,  — 

"  Drink  to  her  who  long 

Has  waked  the  Poet's  sigh, 
The  girl  who  gave  to  song 

What  Gold  could  never  buy!  " 

Meanwhile,  the  week  drew  to  an  end,  and  as  Saturday 
afternoon  was  always  a  holiday  for  the  school,  I  had  ample 
time  to  prepare  myself  for  the  visit  to  Cuff's.  Inasmuch 
as  the  Yule  family  was  ignorant  of  the  proposed  calcareous 
party,  I  was  a  little  puzzled  how  to  get  away  without  being 
observed.  Also,  how  to  get  into  the  house,  if  I  should  not 
return  before  midnight.  I  made  up  my  mind,  at  last,  to 
inform  Dan,  upon  whose  silence  I  knew  I  could  rely.  I 
found  him  in  the  mill,  white  with  the  dust  of  floating  meal, 
and  the  hopper  made  such  a  clatter  that  I  was  forced  to 
put  my  mouth  to  his  ear,  and  half  scream  the  fact  that  I 
expected  to  be  away  from  home  in  the  evening.  He  nod 
ded  and  smiled,  remarking  the  sheepish  expression  of  my 
face,  and,  coming  close  to  me,  said,  "  Shall  I  leave  the 
back-entry  door  open  ?  " 

"  And  don't  say  anything  about  it,  please  ?  "  I  added. 

His  simple  grin  was  as  good  as  anybody  else's  oath ;  so, 
completely  assured,  I  made  myself  ready  during  the  after 
noon,  in  every  respect  but  the  coat,  which  I  whipped  on 
after  supper.  Stealing  out  by  the  back  door,  I  jumped 
over  the  garden-wall  and  took  my  way  down  the  valley. 

It  was  a  sharp,  frosty  night  in  the  beginning  of  Decem- 


150  JOHS   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

her,  and  I  walked  briskly  forward,  busy  with  imaginary 
scenes  and  conversations,  in  which  Amanda  Bratton  had 
an  important  share.  It  was  a  habit  of  my  mind  —  and  still 
is  —  to  create  all  presumed  situations  in  advance,  and  pre 
pare  myself  for  the  part  I  expected  to  play  in  them.  I 
must  frankly  confess  to  the  reader,  however,  that  the  inter 
ference  of  some  avenging  Nemesis  always  darkens  this  vol 
untary  clairvoyance,  and  spoils  my  tags  and  cues.  Hence 
all  my  best  remarks  have  never  been  uttered,  my  most 
brilliant  humor  has  rusted  in  its  sheath,  and  with  undoubted 
capacity  to  sparkle  in  conversation  (if  the  occasions  would 
only  arise  as  I  project  them  in  advance),  I  have  never 
achieved  more  than  an  average  reputation  as  a  talker. 
How  my  anticipations  on  this  particular  evening  were  ful 
filled,  I  shall  now  proceed  to  relate. 

As  the  distance  to  Carterstown  was  four  miles,  Cuff's 
house  and  lime-kiln  must  therefore  be  two  and  a  half  miles 
from  Yule's  Mill,  a  walk  of  three  quarters  of  an  hour.  I 
had  not  been  down  the  road  before,  but  I  supposed  that 
the  burning  kiln  would  be  as  a  banner  hung  out,  afar  off, 
to  guide  my  steps.  On  I  went,  passing  many  houses  on  one 
side  of  the  road,  with  their  barns  on  the  other,  but  no  blue 
blaze  showed  itself,  and  I  began  to  suspect  that  I  was  on 
the  wrong  road.  A  wide  stream,  coming  down  through  the 
hills  on  the  left,  arrested  my  way,  until  I  discovered  a  high 
log  and  hand-rail  on  one  side,  and  felt  my  way  over  in  the 
dark.  Just  beyond  this  stream  stood  another  house  on  the 
left,  on  a  bold  knoll,  through  which  the  road  was  cut.  The 
shrubs  in  the  front  yard  rustled  darkly  over  the  top  of  a 
lofty  stone  wall. 

As  I  approached  this  point,  a  huge  dog  sprang  down  from 
above  and  commenced  barking  furiously.  Having  no  means 
of  defence,  I  stood  still,  and  the  animal  planted  himself  in 
the  middle  of  the  road  as  if  determined  to  bar  my  advance. 
Presently  I  heard  a  whistle  from  the  top  of  the  wall,  and  a 
stern  female  voice  exclaimed,  "  Be  quiet,  Roger  ! " 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  151 

I  started.  It  was  surely  the  voice  of  Miss  Verbena  Cuff. 
The  next  moment  she  herself  suddenly  appeared  in  the 
road  at  my  side,  and  I  heard  a  whisper,  "  Is  it  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  said ;  "  do  you  live  here  ?  I  was  afraid  I  should 
not  find  the  house." 

Taking  my  hand,  she  led  me  to  a  break  in  the  wall,  up 
which  ran  a  steep  flight  of  stone  steps.  When  I  had  gained 
the  top,  I  found  myself  on  the  knoll  in  front  of  the  house, 
and  saw  a  flickering  cone  of  blue  and  scarlet  fire  at  the 
foot  of  the  slope  beyond. 

"A'n't  that  a  blaze  ?  "  said  Miss  Verbena  ;  "  I  never  get 
tired  a-looking  at  it.  It 's  Tom's  turn  to  tend  the  fire  to 
night,  so  he  won't  be  in  the  way.  Tom  's  rather  rough,  he 
is." 

" '  Men  scarcely  know  how  beautiful  fire  is,' "  I  said, 
quoting  Shelley.  "  It  looks  as  if  a  little  volcano  had  broken 
up  out  of  the  earth.  See,  that 's  the  crater,  at  the  top. 
Are  you  not  afraid  of  the  lava  bursting  out  ?  " 

"  Go  along,  you ! "  was  her  answer,  as  she  gave  me  a  poke 
in  the  ribs.  "  Come  in  the  side-door,  into  the  setting-room. 
I  did  n't  make  a  fire  in  the  parlor,  because  I  was  n't  quite 
sure  you  'd  come.  But  I  '11  bring  in  some  wood,  right  away, 
and  then  run  up-stairs  and  fix  myself  in  no  time." 

She  ushered  me  into  the  sitting-room,  which  was  dimly 
lighted  by  a  single  tallow-candle.  An  old  woman,  with  a 
curious  cap  and  no  upper  teeth,  sat  i)  a  high-backed  rock 
ing-chair,  knitting.  She  must  havt  been  very  deaf,  for 
Miss  Verbena  stooped  down  and  shouted  in  her  ear, "  Moth 
er,  this  is  Mr.  Godfrey,  the  schoolmaster  at  Yule's  Mill !  " 

The  old  woman  looked  at  me  with  a  silly  smile,  nodded, 
and  murmured  to  herself  as  she  resumed  her  knitting, 
"  Yes,  yes ;  young  people  will  be  young  people.  I  s'pose 
I  'm  in  the  way  now." 

In  a  few  minutes  she  rose  and  retired  to  the  kitchen,  and 
Miss  Verbena,  following  her,  soon  reappeared  with  an  arm 
ful  of  sticks  and  chips,  and  a  piece  of  candle  which  she 


152  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

managed  to  hold  between  two  of  her  fingers.  I  ought  to 
have  gone  and  opened  the  parlor-door  for  her,  but  I  was 
struck  dumb  at  my  reception,  and  sat  like  a  fool  while  she 
pressed  down  the  handle  of  the  lock  with  her  elbow  and 
pushed  the  door  open  with  her  foot.  Good  heavens !  I 
thought,  what  does  it  all  mean  ?  There  is  nobody  else  here, 
and  it  looks  as  if  nobody  was  expected  !  She  is  making  a 
fire  in  the  parlor  and  she  is  going  to  "  fix  herself  in  no 
time  "  —  only  for  me  ?  Why,  when  the  old  woman  goes 
into  the  kitchen,  and  the  big  brother  stays  at  the  lime-kiln, 
and  the  young  man  and  the  young  woman  sit  by  themselves 
in  the  best  parlor,  it 's  "  keeping  company  "  —  it 's  "  court 
ing"! 

Instead  of  trembling  with  delight,  I  shivered  with  fear. 
Miss  Verbena  Cuff  was  no  longer  a  buxom,  rollicking  dam 
sel,  but  a  young  ogress,  who  had  lured  me  into  her  den  and 
would  tear  me  with  relentless  claws  until  I  purchased  my 
deliverance  with  sweet  words  and  caresses.  I  knew  that 
"  courting  "  implied  such  familiarities ;  I  had  often  heard 
that  even  candles  were  not  necessary  to  its  performance ; 
and  in  my  boyish  ignorance  I  had  always  supposed  that  the 
sentiment  of  love,  upon  one  side  at  least,  must  precede  the 
custom.  I  did  not  know  that  in  many  parts  of  the  country 
it  was  a  common  expedient,  indifferently  practised,  to  de 
termine  whether  the  parties  were  likely  to  love  each  other. 
A  kiss  or  a  hug,  now  and  then,  was  not  looked  upon  as  a 
committal  of  the  heart  to  a  serious  attachment ;  such  things 
were  cheap  coins,  used  publicly  in  forfeits  and  other  games, 
and  might  be  exchanged  privately  without  loss  to  cither's 
emotional  property. 

No  ;  I  was  haunted  by  a  softer  and  sweeter  image  than 
that  of  Verbena  Cuff,  —  a  pure,  ideal  flame,  which  her  lips, 
red  and  full  as  they  were,  seemed  pursed  to  blow  out. 
Every  fibre  of  my  heart  tingled  and  trembled  with  alarm. 

When  she  returned  from  the  parlor,  she  brought  her 
album  and  gave  it  to  me.  The  back  was  covered  with 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  153 

green  and  brown  calico,  to  preserve  the  morocco  binding. 
"  That 's  the  flower  I  could  n't  remember,"  said  she,  open 
ing  the  book  at  a  lithographed  ranunculus  ;  "  it  looks  just 
like  our  butter-ball  in  the  garden." 

On  turning  over  the  leaves,  my  eye  caught  the  name  of 
Amanda  Bratton.  Ah,  I  said  to  myself,  let  me  read  her 
selection.  It  commenced,  — 

"  Verbena,  when  I  'm  far  away,"  &c. 

"  What  exquisite  irony !  "  I  thought.  "  She  is  too  culti 
vated  to  cast  pearls  before  swine." 

All  at  once  Tom  Cuff  came  in,  with  a  black  jug  in  one 
hand.  He  twisted  his  mouth  when  he  saw  me,  but  gave 
me  his  hand  and  said,  "  How  are  you,  Master  Godfrey  ?  " 

I  returned  his  greeting  with  a  dignified  air. 

"  Sis  !  "  he  called,  "  more  cider  !  It 's  mortal  hot  work, 
and  makes  a  fellow  dry.  Bring  Godfrey  a  swig,  while 
you  're  about  it." 

The  cider  was  soon  forthcoming,  and  so  sharp  and  hard 
that  it  made  me  wink.  Tom  took  up  his  jug  and  started, 
but  halted  at  the  door  and  said  to  me,  "  When  you  're  tired 
talking  to  Sis,  you  may  come  down  and  look  at  the  kiln. 
I  've  put  in  some  big  chunks,  and  it 's  burnin'  like  all  hell ! " 

"  I  '11  come  !  "  I  answered  ;  "  I  want  to  see  it." 

Here  was  a  chance  of  escape,  and  I  recovered  my  cour 
age.  I  informed  Miss  Verbena  that  I  would  write  some 
thing  for  her  which  would  suit  the  lily  of  the  valley.  I 
should  have  preferred  the  verbena,  but  I  saw  that  some 
body  had  been  before  me,  —  somebody,  I  added,  who  no 
doubt  had  a  better  right. 

"  Oh,  go  along,  now !  shut  up !  it  a'n't  so ! "  cried  the 
energetic  maiden,  giving  me  a  poke  which  took  away  my 
breath. 

She  bustled  about  a  little  more,  arranging  some  house 
hold  matters,  and  then  came  and  stood  before  me,  saying, 
"  Now  I  'in  done  work  ;  don't  I  look  like  a  fright  ?  " 


154  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  No :  you  could  n't  do  that  if  you  were  to  try,"  I  gal 
lantly  answered. 

"  None  of  your  soft  soap  so  soon  in  the  evening ! "  she 
retorted.  "  Now  I  'm  going  up-stairs  to  fix.  You  'd  better 
sneak  into  the  parlor  ;  it 's  nice  and  warm." 

"  I  guess  I  '11  step  down  and  call  on  Tom.  I  want  to 
have  a  look  at  the  kiln." 

"  Well  —  don't  stay  more  than  ten  minutes." 

This  I  promised,  solemnly  intending  to  keep  my  word. 
I  went  out  the  opposite  door,  opened  a  gate  in  the  paling, 
and  found  myself  in  a  sloping  field.  The  top  of  the  kiln 
glimmered  in  wreaths  of  colored  flame,  just  below  me,  and 
I  could  see  Tom's  brawny  form  moving  about  in  the  light 
which  streamed  from  the  mouth,  at  the  foot  of  the  knoll. 
I  walked  first  to  the  top,  inhaled  the  pungent  gas  which 
arose  from  the  calcining  stones,  and  meditated  how  I  should 
escape.  The  big  dog  had  followed  me,  and  was  walking 
about,  sniffing  suspiciously  and  occasionally  uttering  a  low 
growl.  To  quiet  him,  first  of  all,  I  went  down  to  Tom, 
took  a  pull  at  his  jug,  and  commented  on  the  grandeur  of 
the  fire. 

"  Yes,  it 's  good  now  for  half  an  hour,"  he  said.  "  I  'm 
agoin'  to  take  a  snooze.  You  'd  better  go  back  to  the 
house  —  Sis  '11  be  expectin'  you." 

"  I  will  go  back,"  I  answered. 

He  lay  down  on  a  warm  heap  of  sand  and  slaked  lime, 
and  I  climbed  again  to  the  burning  crest  of  the  kiln.  The 
big  dog  was  there  still !  but  I  saw  a  fence  before  me,  and 
knew  that  the  road  was  beyond.  I  walked  rapidly  away, 
and  had  my  hand  on  the  topmost  rail,  when  the  beast  gave 
a  howl  and  bounded  after  me.  Over  I  sprang,  and  started 
to  run,  but  I  had  totally  forgotten  that  the  road  had  been 
cut  into  the  side  of  the  knoll,  leaving  a  bank  some  fifteen 
or  twenty  feet  deep.  My  first  step,  therefore,  touched  air 
instead  of  earth  :  over  and  over  I  went,  crashing  through 
briers  and  mullein-stalks,  and  loosening  stones,  which  rat- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  155 

tied  after  me,  until  I  brought  up,  with  a  thundering  shock, 
in  the  gutter  below.  I  was  on  my  feet  in  an  instant,  and 
tearing  at  full  speed  past  the  wall  in  front  of  the  house,  on 
the  top  of  which  I  saw  the  dusky  outline  of  the  dog,  spring 
ing  towards  the  steps.  There  was  a  light  at  an  upper  win 
dow,  and  I  fancied  that  I  heard  the  sash  raised.  In  less 
time  than  it  has  taken  to  write  these  lines,  I  had  reached 
the  creek  and  splashed  through  it,  without  taking  time  to 
find  the  log.  The  water,  fortunately,  was  only  mid-leg 
deep.  Then  I  rushed  forward  again,  stopping  neither  to 
think  nor  take  breath,  until  the  fainter  barking  of  the  dog 
showed  that  he  had  given  up  the  chase. 

How  I  had  escaped  cuts,  bruises,  or  broken  bones  seemed 
a  miracle,  but  I  was  sound  in  every  limb.  I  cannot  now 
pretend  to  unravel  the  confusion  of  thought  in  which  I 
walked  slowly  homewards.  Was  my  fine-strung,  excitable 
nature  a  blessing  or  a  curse  ?  Had  I  acted  as  a  wise  man 
or  a  fool  ?  I  strongly  suspected  the  latter  ;  I  had,  at  least, 
betrayed  a  weakness  at  utter  variance  with  my  pretensions 
to  manhood,  and  which  would  render  it  impossible  for  me 
ever  again  to  meet  either  Yerbena  or  Tom  CufF  without 
feeling  abashed  and  humiliated.  I  had  run  away,  like  a 
coward,  from  the  possibility  of  a  situation  which,  in  itself, 
would  have  been,  at  the  worst,  a  harmless  diversion  in  the 
eyes  of  the  world.  I  was  not  forced  to  bestow  the  kisses 
and  hugs  I  foreboded ;  a  little  self-possession  on  my  part 
was  all  that  was  necessary  to  give  the  visit  a  cool,  Platonic 
character,  and  I  should  have  carried  home  my  unprofaned 
ideal.  I  imagined  what  Dan  Yule  would  do  in  a  similar 
case,  and  admitted  to  myself  that  he  would  get  out  of  the 
scrape  in  a  much  more  sensible  way  than  I  had  done. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  aforementioned  ideal  was  flat 
tered.  I  had  saved  it  from  even  the  suspicion  of  danger, 
—  had  braved  ridicule,  worse  than  hostility,  for  the  sake  of 
keeping  it  pure.  I  was  made  of  better  clay  than  the  men 
around  me,  and  ought  to  be  proud  of  it. 


156  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

When  I  reached  home,  the  family  had  not  yet  gone  to 
bed.  Nevertheless,  I  entered  by  the  back-entry  door, 
which  I  found  unlocked,  stole  to  my  room,  kindled  a  fire, 
and  changed  my  coat,  —  my  best  coat,  alas !  which  was 
much  soiled,  and  torn  in  two  or  three  places.  When  I  had 
become  composed,  I  went  down  to  the  kitchen,  on  the  pre 
tence  of  getting  a  glass  of  water,  but  in  reality  to  make  the 
family  suppose  that  I  had  been  spending  the  evening  in  my 
own  room. 

Dan  looked  at  me  with  a  very  queer  expression,  but  he 
asked  me  no  questions,  and  it  was  many  days  before  I  con 
fided  to  him  my  adventure. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  157 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN     WHICH     LOVE     AND      LITERATURE      STIMULATE      EACH 
OTHER. 

IT  must  not  be  supposed  that  my  literary  ambition  had 
slumbered  during  all  this  time.  Some  four  or  five  of  my 
poems  had  been  published,  —  the  last  two,  to  my  great  sat 
isfaction,  without  editorial  correction ;  and  moreover,  a 
story  of  the  Colonial  days,  entitled  "  The  Wizard  of  Per- 
kiomen,"  was  announced  as  accepted.  My  first  timidity  to 
be  known  as  an  author  was  rapidly  wearing  away.  I  began 
to  wish  that  somebody  would  suspect  me  of  being  "  Selim," 
but  alas !  who  was  there  of  sufficient  taste  and  penetration 
to  make  the  discovery  ?  Would  not  Miss  Amanda  Bratton, 
at  least,  recognize  in  tne  "  Parable  "  I  had  written  for  her 
album  the  same  strings  which  vibrated  in  the  "  Unknown 
Bard  ? "  To  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  however,  I  at 
tached  to  the  next  poem  I  forwarded  to  Philadelphia,  after 
the  signature  of  "  Selim,"  the  local  address,  "  Yule's  Mill, 
Berks  County,  Pa."  This  would  settle  the  matter  for 
ever. 

My  mind  the  more  easily  habituated  itself  to  literary  ex 
pression  from  the  isolation,  whether  real  or  imagined,  in 
which  I  lived.  I  learned  to  confide  to  paper  the  thoughts 
which  I  judged  no  one  around  me  (except,  perhaps,  one 
whom  I  dared  not  approach)  was  worthy  to  share.  My 
treasures  accumulated  much  more  rapidly  than  I  could  dis 
pose  of  them ;  but  I  looked  upon  them  as  so  much  availa 
ble  capital,  to  be  used  at  the  proper  time.  I  had  no  further 
doubt  of  my  true  vocation,  but  what  rank  I  should  attain  in 


158  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

it  was  a  question  which  sometimes  troubled  me.  I  lacked 
patience  to  toil  for  years  in  obscurity,  looking  forward  to 
the  distant  day  when  recognition  must  come,  because  it  had 
been  fairly  earned.  My  energy  was  of  that  kind  which 
flags  without  immediate  praise. 

There  was  now,  as  the  reader  may  have  suspected,  an 
additional  spur  to  my  impatience.  My  heart  was  pitched 
to  the  key  of  a  certain  sweet,  subdued,  even-toned  voice. 
I  was  jubilant  with  the  consciousness  that  the  one  passion 
which  is  not  only  permitted  to  authors,  but  is  considered 
actually  necessary  to  their  development,  had  come  at  last 
to  quicken  and  inspire  me.  It  was  a  vague,  misty,  delicious 
sensation,  scorning  to  be  put  into  tangible  form,  or  to  clothe 
its  yearnings  with  the  material  aspects  of  life.  There  was 
poison  in  the  thought  of  settlements,  income,  housekeeping 
details;  I  turned  away  with  an  inward  shudder,  if  such 
things  were  accidentally  suggested  to  my  mind.  My  love 
nourished  itself  upon  dew,  odors,  and  flute-like  melodies. 

I  took  the  album  back  to  Miss  Amanda  with  a  tremor 
of  mingled  doubt  and  hope.  She  read  the  lines  slowly, 
and  as  she  approached  the  bottom  "of  the  page  I  turned 
away  my  eyes  and  waited,  with  my  heart  in  my  mouth,  for 
her  voice. 

"  Oh,  it  is  so  pretty ! "  she  said ;  "  there  is  nothing  so 
nice  in  the  book.  You  do  write  beautifully,  Mr.  Godfrey. 
Have  you  composed  anything  for  Verbena  Cuff?" 

She  put  the  question  in  a  careless  way,  which  satisfied 
me  that  there  was  not  the  least  jealousy  or  selfishness  in 
her  nature.  So  far  as  my  hopes  were  concerned,  I  should 
have  been  better  satisfied  if  she  had  betrayed  a  slight 
tinge  of  the  former  emotion ;  but,  on  after-reflection,  I  de 
cided  that  I  liked  her  all  the  better  for  the  unsuspicious 
truth  and  frankness  of  her  nature. 

"  I  could  n't  avoid  it,  you  know,  after  promising,"  I  said. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  see  it." 

"  I  have  no  copy  with  me,"  I  replied ;  "  but  I  have  the 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  159 

lines  in  my  head.     I  wrote  them  for  the  lily  of  the  valley, 
which,  you  know,  means  '  Humility  ' :  — 

"  '  My  dwelling  is  the  forest  shade, 

Beside  the  streamlet  wandering  free ; 
'T  is  there,  in  modest  green  arrayed, 
I  hide  my  blossoms  from  the  bee. 

"  '  But  thou  dost  make  the  garden  fair, 

Where  noonday  sunbeams  round  thee  fall ; 
How  should  the  shrinking  Lily  dare 
To  hear  the  gay  Verbena's  call?  ' 

You  notice  the  irony  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  after  a  pause.  "  It 's  a  shame." 
But  she  smiled  sweetly,  as  she  said  so. 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know,"  I  cried,  in  transport,  —  "  you  don't 
know,  Miss  Bratton,  how  grateful  it  is  to  find  a  mind  that 
can  understand  you  !  To  find  intelligence,  and  poetic  feel 
ing,  and  —  and  —  " 

I  paused,  not  knowing  how  to  make  the  climax. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  casting  down  her  eyes,  and  with  a 
mournful  inflection  of  voice  which  went  to  my  soul,  "  I  un 
derstand  it,  from  my  own  experience." 

What  more  I  should  have  said,  with  this  encouragement, 
I  know  not,  for  Mrs.  Bratton  put  her  head  into  the  room, 
announcing,  "  Tea,  'Manda.  Mr.  Godfrey,  will  you  set 

ty*" 

This  was  one  of  her  peculiar  phrases,  which  would  have 
provoked  my  mirth,  had  she  not  been  the  mother  of  her 
daughter.  But,  as  she  was,  I  thought  it  quaint  and  origi 
nal.  Another  expression  was,  "  Take  off  some  o'  the  but 
ter,"  or  whatever  dish  it  might  be.  I  accepted  the  invita 
tion,  although  my  pleasure  at  having  my  tea  "  seasoned  " 
by  Miss  Amanda  was  greatly  lessened  by  the  presence  of 
young  Sep,  in  a  state  of  exhilaration.  He  had  just  come 
up  from  the  Buck  Tavern,  and  was  in  a  humor  for  any 
devilment.  It  pleased  him,  in  addressing  me,  to  abbre 
viate  my  family-name  in  a  way  which  made  his  remarks 


160  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

seem  shockingly  profane.  This  he  thought  the  perfection 
of  wit,  and  he  roared  every  time  he  uttered  it. 

Miss  Amanda  looked  pained,  as  well  she  might  be,  and 
over  and  over  again  exclaimed,  "  Don't,  Sep  ! "  —  but  to 
no  purpose.  I  thought  this  was  bad  enough,  but  worse  was 
to  come. 

"  I  say, ,"  (I  will  not  write  the  syllable  he  used), 

"  I  saw  Tom  Cuff  at  the  Buck  to-day.  He  says  the  lime 
kiln  's  done  burning."  Then  he  winked  at  me,  and  burst 
into  a  hoarse  laugh. 

I  sat,  frozen  with  horror. 

"  Lime-kiln  ?  "  was  all  I  could  say,  hoping  my  confusion 
might  pass  for  ignorance  in  the  pale,  steady  eyes  which 
must  certainly  be  fixed  on  my  face. 

.  "  You  did  n't  know  they  had  one,  I  reckon ! "  he  contin 
ued.  "Well,  —  I  won't  tell  tales  out  of  school,  even 
against  the  schoolmaster." 

I  caught  Miss  Amanda's  look,  which  asked,  "  What  does 
he  mean  ?  "  Explanation,  however,  was  impossible  at  the 
time,  and  I  said  nothing.  Sep's  thoughts  presently  turned 
into  another  channel,  and  my  torment  ceased,  though  not 
my  apprehensions  as  to  the  impression  he  had  produced 
on  somebody  else. 

I  did  not  dare  to  call  too  frequently,  and  several  days 
elapsed  before  I  could  make  an  explanation.  I  approached 
the  subject  clumsily  enough,  feeling  that  my  allusion  to  it 
was  a  half-confession  of  misdemeanor,  yet  too  disturbed  to 
take  the  opposite  course,  and  ignore  it.  Of  course,  I  omit 
ted  the  catastrophe  of  the  evening,  making  the  album  ac 
count  for  my  visit,  and  hinting,  as  delicately  as  possible, 
that  I  had  expected  to  meet  Miss  Bratton  at  Cuff's.  How 
I  was  relieved  to  find  that  I  had  misinterpreted  the  latter's 
glance  at  the  tea-table !  She  had  attached  no  meaning  to 
her  brother's  remark,  —  had,  in  fact,  forgotten  all  about  it ! 
Now  that  I  mentioned  the  matter,  she  had  an  indistinct 
recollection  of  something  about  Tom  Cuff  and  a  lime-kiln  ; 


JOHN  GODFKEY'S   FORTUNES.  161 

but  Sep  had  such  a  way  of  blurting  out  everything  that 
came  into  his  head  !  She  knew,  moreover,  how  "  people  " 
always  talked,  making  mountains  out  of  mole-hills,  —  but 
Verbena  Cuff  was  reckoned  to  be  quite  a  nice  girl,  and  I 
need  not  object  to  have  it  known  that  I  visited  her  now  and 
then. 

I  affirmed,  with  great  earnestness,  that  I  hoped  I  should 
never  see  her  again. 

"  Why,  you  seem  to  have  quite  a  prejudice  against  her, 
Mr.  Godfrey,"  said  Miss  Amanda.  "  She  is  a  good-hearted 
creature,  I  assure  you,  with,  perhaps,  a  little  —  though 
it  may  be  wrong  in  me  to  say  it  —  a  little  want  of  polish. 
That  is  a  common  want  in  Upper  Samaria,  however,  and 
maybe  we  all  have  it  in  your  eyes." 

"Oh,  Miss  Amanda  —  Miss  Bratton ! "  I  remonstrated, 
"  not  all!  You  are  unjust  to  yourself,  and  to  me,  if  you 
imagine  I  could  think  so.  Your  generosity  will  not  allow 
you  to  admit  Verbena  Cuff's  coarseness  and  boldness  of 
manner ;  you  cannot  feel  the  contrast  as  /  do.  It  is  just 
because  some  others  are  cultivated,  and  refined,  and  pure- 
spirited,  that  her  ignorance  is  so  repulsive  to  me !  " 

She  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  was  silent  for  a  minute. 
Then  she  spoke  in  that  gentle,  deliberate  way  which  so 
charmed  me :  "  Ye-es,  there  are  others  who  have  risen 
above  those  who  surround  them.  You  will  find  them  here 
and  there." 

This  was  taking  up  my  words  altogether  too  literally.  I 
had  spoken,  it  is  true,  in  the  plural,  but  my  heart  meant  a 
singular.  In  her  perfect  modesty,  —  her  ignorance  of  her 
own  spiritual  value,  —  she  had  misunderstood  me.  I  did 
not  admire  her  the  less  for  this  quality,  though  I  felt  that 
all  my  indirect  professions,  hitherto,  must  have  failed  to 
reach  her  maidenly  consciousness. 

While  I  was  uneasily  shifting  my  cap  from  one  hand  to 
another,  uncertain  whether  to  continue  the  subject,  or  give 
our  conversation  another  direction,  she  took  up  a  paper 
11 


162  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

which  lay  on  the  table  beside  her,  unfolded  it,  and  asked, 
with  a  bewitching  air  of  pleasantry,  — 

"  Mr.  Godfrey,  do  you  know  who  '  Selim '  is  ?  " 
I  had   not   yet  received   my  copy  from  the   post-office 
at  Cardiff,  and  was  therefore  ignorant  that  my  poem,  enti 
tled  "  The  Lament  of  Hero,  after  the  Drowning  of  Lean- 
der,"  commencing,  — 

"Ay,  howl  ye  Hellespontic  waves !  " 

had  been  printed  in  the  number  for  that  week ;  but  a 
glance  at  the  first  page,  as  she  held  it  towards  me,  showed 
the  success  of  my  stratagem.  I  was  discovered  at  last. 
There,  under  "  Selim,"  was  the  address,  "  Yule's  Mill, 
Berks  County."  I  will  not  describe  my  sensations  at  that 
moment.  I  have  understood  ever  since  how  a  young  girl 
must  feel  when  the  man  her  heart  has  chosen  unexpectedly 
declares  his  own  attachment. 

"  Have  you  read  it  ?  Do  you  like  it  ?  "  I  breathlessly 
asked. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  —  it  is  lovely !  I  knew  you  must  be  a 
poet,  Mr.  Godfrey.  I  saw  the  Belvidere  Bard  at  Bethle 
hem.  He  visited  our  school ;  and  he  had  eyes  with  the 
same  expression  as  you  have.  There  's  something  about 
poets  that  distinguishes  them  from  common  people." 

My  own  thought !  Was  I  not,  like  Byron,  not  altogether 
made  of  such  mean  clay  as  rots  into  the  souls  of  those 
whom  I  survey  ?  And  she,  who  stood  as  far  above  the  rest 
of  her  sex  in  that  secluded  valley  as  I  stood  above  mine, 
was  the  first  —  the  only  one  —  to  recognize  my  nobility. 
Only  the  exiled  Princess  knew,  under  his  rags,  the  lofty 
bearing  of  the  exiled  Prince !  Oh,  could  I  but  woo  her  to 
return  my  sprouting  love,  I  would  immortalize  her  in  future 
song,  —  she  should  be  my  Hinda,  my  Medora,  my  Astarte, 
my  Ellen  of  the  Lake !  After  Burns  and  his  Highland 
Mary,  should  be  written  the  names  of  Godfrey  and  his 
Amanda. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  163 

There  was  no  end,  that  night,  to  my  preposterous  dreams. 
As  I  recall  them,  I  know  not  whether  to  weep  or  laugh. 
The  puny  lily  of  my  imaginative  faculty  seemed  destined 
to  fill  the  world  with  its  fragrance,  and  I  could  not  see  that 
it  was  rooted,  no  less  than  the  pig-weed,  in  the  common 
mud.  I  had  yet  to  learn  that  the  finer  clay,  upon  which  I 
congratulated  myself,  is  more  easily  soiled  by  the  Devil's 
fingers  than  one  of  coarser  grit,  —  that  neither  do  such 
natures  as  mine  monopolize  the  beauty,  the  romance,  and 
the  tragedy  of  life,  nor  are  they  exempt  from  the  tempta 
tions  which  assail  the  ignorant,  the  excesses  committed  by 
the  vulgar. 

The  tidings  that  "  the  schoolmaster  wrote  verses  for  the 
papers  "  were  soon  spread  through  the  neighborhood.  I 
cannot,  to  this  day,  decide  whether  it  was  an  advantage  to 
my  reputation  among  the  people,  or  the  reverse.  On  the 
one  hand,  they  had  little  respect  for  any  talent  which  did 
not  take  a  practical  direction ;  on  the  other,  they  vaguely 
felt  that  it  was  a  certain  sort  of  distinction.  The  Yules, 
and  others,  borrowed  my  copy  of  the  paper,  and,  I  am 
bound  to  believe,  dutifully  read  the  poem.  Dan  was  honest 
enough  to  confess  to  me :  "  It 's  a  pretty  jingle,  but  I  can't 
say  as  I  know  what  it  all  means."  The  girls,  I  did  not  fail 
to  observe,  were  much  more  impressed  by  the  discovery 
than  the  young  men. 

By  degrees,  however,  I  received  encouraging  notices  of 
one  kind  or  another.  The  shoemaker  at  the  Buck,  an  old 
Scotchman,  who  knew  Burns  by  heart  and  sneered  at  Ho 
mer  and  Shakspeare,  was  one  of  my  very  first  admirers ; 
but  he  used  to  say,  "  Ye  ha'n't  got  the  lilt,  lad,"  —  which 
was  very  true,  only  I  did  n't  believe  him  at  the  time. 
Squire  Bratton,  being  one  day  at  Carterstown,  brought  me 
a  message  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Perego,  to  the  effect  that  I 
would  find  sublime  subjects  for  my  muse  in  the  Scriptures : 
he  suggested  Moses  on  Pisgah,  and  the  visit  of  Naaman  to 
Elisha.  I  did,  indeed,  commence  a  poem  on  the  former 


164  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

subject,  out  of  pure  gratitude  for  the  clergyman's  interest, 
—  but  this  was  an  insufficient  inspiration,  and  the  work 
was  never  finished.  Then  I  received  many  applications  to 
write  obituary  verses,  made  from  so  evident  a  piety  to 
wards  the  dead,  and  with  such  sincere  good  faith  in  my 
powers,  that  I  had  not  the  heart  to  refuse.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  some  of  my  manuscripts  are  still  preserved  be 
tween  the  leaves  of  old  Family  Bibles,  in  Upper  Samaria. 
The  applications  for  album  poetry,  at  first  so  agreeable, 
became  at  last  a  positive  annoyance,  because  my  poetic 
apostrophes  to  Youth  and  Beauty  were  always  taken  in  a 
literal  and  personal  sense.  One  day,  in  sheer  desperation, 
I  wrote  in  a  volume  sent  to  me,  through  Susan  Yule,  by  a 
young  lady  of  Cardiff,  — 

"  Oh,  fair  Unknown !  believe  my  simple  rhyme : 
Procrastination  is  the  thief  of  time." 

The  lady,  of  whose  age  and  circumstances  I  was  utterly 
ignorant,  happened  to  be  verging  on  ancient  maidenhood, 
much  to  her  own  disgust,  and  immediately  suspected  me 
of  a  malicious  insinuation.  She  tore  out  and  burned  the 
leaf,  and  within  three  days  Mrs.  Yule  picked  up  a  report 
that  I  had  written  something  unmentionably  coarse  and 
profane.  It  must  have  been  generally  believed,  for  I  re 
ceived  very  few  albums  afterwards. 

During  this  time  the  number  of  my  pupils  had  been 
gradually  increasing,  until  there  were  frequently  between 
forty  and  fifty  present  at  once,  and  all  my  youthful  author 
ity  was  required  to  preserve  even  tolerable  order.  I  had 
little  trouble  with  the  oldest  and  the  youngest,  but  the  cubs 
between  twelve  and  sixteen  sometimes  drove  me  nearly  to 
distraction.  Keeping  them  in  after  school-hours,  was  more 
of  an  annoyance  to  myself  than  to  them ;  I  had  a  dislike 
to  bodily  punishment,  although  it  was  well  merited,  and 
allowed  by  the  custom  of  the  country ;  and,  moreover,  to 
confess  the  truth,  I  did  not  feel  sure  of  my  ability  to  sup- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  165 

press  a  well-organized  plan  of  rebellion.  Towards  the  end 
of  the  winter,  I  had  reason  to  believe  that  a  "  barring  out " 
was  really  contemplated,  and  communicated  my  suspicions 
to  Dan  Yule,  who  was  my  confidant  in  all  external  matters. 

Dan  took  the  matter  much  more  coolly  than  I  did. 
"  Boys  will  be  boys,"  said  he  ;  "  they  do  it  every  winter ;  — 
fact  is,  I  've  had  a  hand  in  it  myself.  But  if  you  want  to 
fix  'em,  I  '11  put  you  up  to  a  trick  worth  two  o'  their'n." 

This  struck  me  as  better  than  resistance ;  so,  prompted 
by  Dan,  I  procured  some  large  iron  spikes,  and  prepared 
oblique  holes  in  the  window-frames  to  receive  them.  The 
window-shutters  consisted  of  a  single  piece,  bolted  on  the 
inside.  I  also  went  into  the  loft  and  bored  a  small  hole 
through  the  plaster  of  the  ceiling,  just  over  the  stove. 
Then,  with  tranquillity  of  soul,  I  waited  for  the  event. 

On  Saturday  morning,  the  closed  shutters  of  the  school- 
house  announced  to  me  that  the  barring-out  had  commenced. 
I  tried  to  open  the  door,  but  found  it  firmly  fastened  on  the 
inner  side.  Then  I  went  to  each  of  the  four  windows,  pre 
tending  to  examine  them,  but  really  inserting  my  spikes. 
When  this  was  clone,  I  locked  the  door  from  without,  and, 
with  a  stone,  drove  the  spikes  home.  The  boys  thought  I 
was  attempting  to  force  an  entrance :  I  could  hear  their 
malicious  laughter.  When  all  was  secure,  I  took  a  rail 
from  the  fence  and  placed  it  against  the  gable.  It  reached 
so  near  the  little  garret-window  that  I  easily  effected  an 
entrance,  and  stole  quietly  along  the  middle  joist  to  the 
hole  in  the  ceiling.  The  boys  were  at  the  windows,  trying 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  me  through  the  cracks  under  the 
shutters.  It  was  a  favorable  moment.  I  hastily  poured  the 
contents  of  a  small  paper  of  ground  cayenne  pepper  down 
through  the  hole  upon  the  stove,  slipped  back  again,  re 
placed  the  rail,  and  gave  a  few  more  thumps  on  the  window- 
shutters  by  way  of  farewell. 

Dan  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  lurk  and  listen 
after  I  reported  that  the  work  was  done,  and  his  descrip- 


166  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

tion,  that  evening,  of  the  sneezes  and  cries  of  distress ;  the 
swagger  of  some  boys  and  the  penitence  of  others ;  the 
consultations  and  the  final  determination  to  surrender ;  the 
bewilderment  and  dumb  dismay  at  finding  that  they  had 
not  only  barred  the  master  out,  but  the  master  had  barred 
them  in,  —  occasioned  more  laughter  in  the  family  than  I 
had  heard  since  I  came  to  live  with  them.  The  efforts  of 
the  boys  to  get  out  lasted  for  some  time,  and  was  only  ac 
complished  at  last  by  wrenching  one  of  the  shutters  off  its 
hinges.  Then  they  scattered  to  their  several  homes,  very 
sheepish  and  crestfallen. 

On  the  following  Monday  I  opened  school  as  usual. 
There  was  a  curious  expectancy  among  the  pupils,  but  I 
made  not  the  slightest  allusion,  then  or  afterwards,  to  the 
Saturday's  performance.  Dan  told  the  whole  story  at  the 
Buck,  and  it  was  some  time  before  the  boys  heard  the  last 
of  it.  I  had  much  less  difficulty,  thenceforth,  in  preserving 
order. 

As  week  after  week  of  the  winter  passed  away,  and  my 
thoughts  turned  from  the  memory  of  autumn  to  the  hope 
of  spring,  the  temporary  character  of  my  occupation  forced 
itself  more  and  more  upon  my  attention.  In  a  short  time 
my  engagement  would  be  at  an  end,  and  I  was  less  than 
ever  in  the  humor  to  renew  it.  What  the  next  step  should 
be,  was  yet  undecided,  except  that  it  must  be  forward  and 
upward  into  a  wider  sphere  of  action. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  167 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN    WHICH   I    DECLARE,    DECIDE,    AND    VENTURE. 

I  HAVE  already  spoken  of  the  exceptional  way  in  which 
my  nature  developed  itself —  by  sudden  bounds,  which,  in 
a  very  short  time,  carried  me  quite  out  of  my  former  self. 
T^he  two,  or  three,  or  possibly  twenty  inherited  elements  were 
not  smoothly  blended  in  my  composition ;  the  blood  of  my 
father's  and  mother's  lines  seemed  only  to  run  side  by  side, 
not  mingle  in  a  new  result,  in  my  veins.  It  was  a  long  time 
—  very  long  after  the  period  of  which  I  am  now  writing  — 
before  I  could  comprehend  my  own  laws  of  growth  and  be 
ing,  and  reconcile  their  apparent  inconsistencies.  As  yet, 
my  power  of  introversion  was  of  the  shallowest  kind.  I 
floated  along,  with  closed  eyes,  on  the  current  of  my  sensa 
tions  and  my  fancies. 

My  growing  attachment  to  Miss  Amanda  Bratton,  how 
ever,  was  the  means  of  pushing  me  a  long  stride  forwards. 
It  thoroughly  penetrated  me  with  a  soft,  ideal  warmth,  far 
enough  removed  from  the  strong  flame  of  ripe  masculine 
passion,  and  gently  stimulated  all  my  mental  and  moral  en 
ergies.  My  ambition  began  to  find  its  proper  soil  of  self- 
reliance,  and  to  put  forth  its  roots.  A  new  force  was  at 
work  in  my  frame,  giving  strength  and  elasticity  to  the  mus 
cles,  "  keying  up  "  many  a  slack  fibre,  lifting  the  drooping 
lid  of  the  eye  and  steadying  its  gaze,  and  correcting,  with 
a  clearer  outline,  the  boyish  softness  of  the  face.  I  no 
longer  shrank  from  the  coming  encounter  with  the  world, 
but  longed  for  the  test  of  courage  and  the  measure  of 
strength. 


168  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

Yet,  in  one  respect,  I  felt  myself  still  a  coward.  Al 
though  convinced  of  the  eternal  devotion  of  my  heart  to 
the  beloved  object,  I  had  not  dared  to  declare  it.  I  saw 
her  frequently,  and  our  relation  became  more  and  more 
sweetly  intimate  and  confidential ;  but  I  never  surprised  a 
blush  when  I  came,  nor  detected  a  tender  tremor  of  voice 
when  I  left.  Her  nature  was  as  calm,  and  apparently  as 
limpid,  as  a  shaded  pool  in  the  heart  of  a  forest.  When 
I  looked  in  her  clear,  unchanging  eyes,  as  they  steadily 
rested  on  mine,  I  felt  the  presence  of  a  pure,  unsuspecting, 
virgin  soul.  It  seemed  to  me  that  my  ever-present  con 
sciousness  of  love  was  met  by  as  profound  an  unconscious 
ness.  I  longed,  yet  dreaded  to  arouse  her  from  her  peace 
ful  and  innocent  dream. 

The  solution  of  my  two  uncertainties  was  hastened  by  an 
unexpected  occurrence.  Early  in  March  I  was  surprised 
by  a  visit  from  Rand,  who  came,  as  he  said,  on  some  busi 
ness  in  which  D.  J.  Mulford  and  Squire  Bratton  were  both 
concerned.  Of  course  he  was  the  guest  of  the  latter  dur 
ing  the  two  or  three  days  of  his  stay.  He  came  over  to  the 
mill  on  the  evening  of  his  arrival,  and  almost  embraced  me 
in  a  gush  of  affectionate  ardor  when  we  met.  I  was  equally 
delighted,  and  took  him  at  once  up  to  my  room  for  a  chat, 
as  on  our  Sunday  afternoons  in  Reading. 

"  Why,  Godfrey,  old  boy,"  said  he,  lighting  a  cigar  with 
out  ceremony,  "  what  a  snug  little  tfen  you  have !  And 
Bratton  tells  me  you  're  a  good  hand  at  the  school,  and  do 
credit  to  his  choice.  I  must  say  I  'm  glad  it  has  turned  out 
so,  for  I  took  a  little  of  the  responsibility  upon  myself  in 
the  beginning,  you  remember.  Bratton  's  a  keen,  long 
headed  man  —  something  of  a  swell,  between  ourselves  ; 
but  so  is  your  affectionate  old  uncle,  for  that  matter.  By 
the  way,  I  've  made  Woolley's  acquaintance,  in  the  way  of 
professional  business ;  —  oh,  you  need  n't  be  alarmed  ;  your 
little  legacy  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  'm  sorry  I  can't 
explain  myself  more  particularly,  but  these  matters  are  con- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  169 

fidential,  you  know.  I  'm  posted  up  about  all  the  business 
in  Mulford's  hands,  and  he  finds  it  convenient  to  let  me 
help  him  now  and  then.  I  say,  though,  Godfrey,  —  no, 
'  Selim,'  I  mean,  —  you  are  getting  famous.  That  Hero 
and  Leander  article  was  copied  into  the  Gazette,  the  other 
day.  Of  course,  when  I  saw  "  Yule's  Mill  "  at  the  bottom, 
I  knew  what  bird  had  whistled.  I  congratulate  you, — 
upon  my  soul  I  do  !  " 

I  was  not  proof  against  such  hearty,  outspoken  sympathy. 
Before  Rand  left  I  had  confided  to  him  my  most  cherished 
literary  hopes  and  desires,  had  read  to  him  the  best  of  my 
treasures  in  manuscript,  and  asked  his  advice  as  to  the  next 
step  I  ought  to  take. 

"  Leave  here,  by  all  means,"  he  said.  "  Go  to  Philadel 
phia,  or,  still  better,  to  New  York,  where  you  '11  find  the 
right  sort  of  work.  You  may  come  to  write  novels  or  trag 
edies,  in  the  course  of  time,  and  make  as  much  in  a  month 
as  you  would  in  a  year  with  such  a  school  as  this.  I  should 
advise  you,  though,  Selim,"  (he  persisted  in  addressing  me 
so,)  "  to  get  into  some  newspaper  or  book  business ;  it 's 
more  solid  and  respectable.  Poets,  you  know,  are  always 
dissipated,  and  finish  with  the  poor-house." 

I  resented  this  statement  with  great  warmth. 

"  Oh,  well,"  he  continued,  "  I  did  n't  mean  that  that 
would  be  your  fate,  Selim.  Besides,  it  may  work  off  after 
a  while.  Lots  of  fellows  catch  poetry,  and  have  it  a  year 
or  two,  and  it  don't  seem  to  do  them  any  harm.  Mulford 
wrote  a  song  for  the  last  Presidential  campaign,  to  the  tune 
of  '  TullahgorumJ  and  it  does  n't  sound  so  bad,  when  he 
sings  it.  But,  to  come  to  the  point,  the  city  's  the  place  for 
you,  or  any  man  that  wants  to  live  by  his  wits.  Only  keep 
your  eyes  skinned,  and  don't  let  the  hair  grow  on  your 
tongue.  You  must  either  have  gold  in  your  pocket,  or  brass 
in  your  face.  Most  people  can't  tell  one  from  t'  other." 

Rand's  expressions  jarred  harshly  on  my  more  delicate 
nature  ;  but  then,  I  knew  precisely  what  he  was,  —  good- 


170  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

hearted,  I  believed,  but  thoroughly  unideal.  The  main 
thing  was,  his  judgment  coincided  with  my  own ;  he,  too, 
recognized  that  I  was  fitted  for  a  more  important  field  of  ac 
tion.  The  very  materialism  of  his  views  gave  them  greater 
practical  value  in  my  eyes.  Not  that  I  paid  much  regard 
to  this  side  of  the  question  ;  but  it  is  always  more  comfort 
able  to  have  the  conclusions  of  Selfishness  with  you  than 
against  you. 

My  first  plan  had  been  to  select  Philadelphia  as  my  fu 
ture  residence.  My  poetical  pseudonym  was  known  to  at 
least  one  literary  paper  there,  and  I  might  make. the  ac 
quaintance  of  Saxon,  author  of  the  series  of  "  Moral  Nov 
els,"  and  Brightaxe,  who  wrote  the  dramatic  poem  of  the 
"  Traitor  of  Talladega."  On  the  other  hand,  the  dii  majo- 
res  had  their  seats  in  New  York;  and  I  fancied  Irving, 
Cooper,  Percival,  and  poets  whose  names  I  will  not  men 
tion  because  they  are  still  living,  seated  day  by  day 
around  the  same  Olympian  board,  and  talking  in  splendid 
tropes  and  cadences.  Even  if  they  only  asked  for  pota 
toes,  there  must  be  a  certain  rhythmic  grace  in  the  words, 
with  caesural  pauses  falling  at  classic  intervals.  Ye  gods  ! 
what  a  fool  I  still  was  ! 

There  was  at  that  time  a  monthly  magazine,  called  "  The 
Hesperian,"  published  in  New  York.  It  was  devoted  to 
Literature  and  Fashion,  and  was  illustrated  both  with  col 
ored  figures  copied  from  Le  Follet,  and  mezzotints  of  mushy 
texture, representing  such  subjects  as  "The Mother's  Bless 
ing,"  or  "  He  Comes  Too  Late."  I  looked  upon  the  latter 
as  miracles  of  art,  and  imbibed  the  contributions  as  the 
very  cream  of  literature.  The  names  of  the  writers  were 
printed  in  capitals  on  the  last  page  of  the  cover,  and  my 
heart  throbbed  when  I  saw  Adeliza  Choate  among  them. 
I  wondered  whether  I  could  not  keep  step  with  her  on  the 
Parnassian  steep  ;  to  have  my  name  so  printed  was  a  down 
right  assurance  of  immortality.  Accordingly,  I  picked  out 
my  choicest  manuscript  and  forwarded  it  with  a  note,  signed 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  171 

with  my  proper  name.  By  a  happy  coincidence,  the  very 
day  after  Rand's  arrival  I  received  a  note  from  "  G.  Jenks, 
Publisher,  per  W.  Timms,"  stating  that  my  poem  would 
appear  in  the  May  number,  —  further,  that  it  was  not  G. 
Jenks's  habit  to  pay  a  nom  de  plume,  but  that  he  would 
send  me  the  Magazine  gratuitously  for  six  months. 

This  piece  of  good  fortune  decided  me.  True,  it  opened 
no  prospect  of  remunerative  employment,  but  then  I  should 
not  be  obliged  to  pay  for  "  The  Hesperian." 

As  I  was  walking  home  from  school,  reading  the  letter 
over  again,  Rand  and  Squire  Bratton,  coming  up  from  the 
direction  of  the  Buck,  overtook  me.  The  latter  was  un 
usually  cordial  an'd  condescending,  insisting  that  I  should, 
take  tea  at  his  house  that  evening,  as  my  friend  Rand  was 
to  return  to  Reading  the  next  morning.  Of  course,  I  was 
only  too  willing  to  comply. 

After  tea,  Miss  Amanda  opened  her  piano  and  sang  for 
.  us.  My  enjoyment  of  her  talent,  however,  was  a  little  dis 
turbed  by  Rand's  prosaic  whispers  of,  "  She  's  been  put 
through  the  regular  paces  at  school,  and  no  mistake.  That 
style  of  thing  was  n't  meant  for  Upper  Samaria." 

At  the  close  of  the  song,  tears  of  feeling  swam  in  my 
eyes,  but  Rand  loudly  clapped  his  hands.  "  You  have  an 
exquisite  touch,  Miss  Bratton,"  he  called  across  the  room ; 
"  it 's  rare  to  find  so  much  musical  talent." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  hear  much  better  music  in  Read 
ing,  Mr.  Rand,"  she  modestly  replied. 

"  No,  I  assure  you ! "  he  exclaimed,  in  his  most  earnest 
voice,  starting  from  his  seat  and  approaching  her.  "  The 
Miss  Clevengers  are  called  fine  performers,  but  I  prefer 
your  style.  They  bang  and  hammer  so,  you  can  hardly 
make  out  what  it  is  they  're  playing.  It  does  n't  touch  your 
feelings." 

Hang  the  fellow  !  I  thought.  If  I  had  but  half  his  assur 
ance,  I  should  know  my  fate  before  twenty-four  hours  are 
over.  I  did  not  hear  the  conversation  which  ensued,  for 


172  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Squire  Bratton  turned  towards  me  with  some  question 
about  the  school ;  but  I  could  mark  the  honeyed  softness 
of  his  voice,  as  he  hung  over  her  music-stool.  I  did  not 
know  why  I  should  feel  disturbed.  He  was  a  chance  vis 
itor  —  had  never  seen  her  before,  and  might  never  come 
ag&in.  She  was  bound  to  treat  him  with  proper  courtesy, 
and  her  manner  was  not  such  as  to  invite  an  immediate  fa 
miliarity.  There  was  nothing  wrong  anywhere,  yet  a  fool 
ish,  feverish  unrest  took  possession  of  me. 

Later  in  the  evening,  the  album  was  produced.  Miss 
Amanda  immediately  turned  to  my  page,  and  said,  "  Oh, 
Mr.  Rand,  you  must  read  what  Mr.  Godfrey  has  written." 

"  Capital ! "  he  exclaimed,  after  he  had  perused  the  lines. 
"  What  a  nice  touch  of  fancy  !  Godfrey,  you  must  really 
have  been  inspired.  But  such  a  flower  would  make  almost 
any  bird  sing  —  even  a  kill-deer  like  myself." 

He  looked  full  in  her  face  as  he  uttered  the  words.  In 
voluntarily,  I  did  the  same  thing,  to  note  how  she  would  • 
receive  the  brazen  compliment. 

"  You  shall  have  a  chance,  then,"  she  quietly  said ;  "  I 
will  bring  you  pen  and  ink  directly." 

"  Oh,  by  Jove,  that 's  taking  me  up  with  a  vengeance  !  " 
Rand  exclaimed.  "  I  could  n't  do  such  a  thing  to  save  my 
life.  Godfrey,  you  must  help  me." 

"  I  'm  not  a  mocking-bird.    I  can  only  sing  my  own  song." 

She  smiled,  but  without  looking  at  me. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Rand,  "  I  must  get  something  out  of 
my  memory.  How  will  this  do  ? 

"  '  My  pen  is  bad,  my  ink  is  pale, 
My  love  to  you  shall  never  fail.'  " 

"  No,"  said  she,  taking  the  book  from  his  hand,  "  I  will 
not  have  anything  of  the  kind.  You  are  making  fun  of 
my  album,  and  I  '11  put  it  away." 

"  Aw,  now,"  groaned  Rand,  assuming  an  expression  of 
penitence.  But  it  was  too  late.  The  book  was  already  re- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  173 

moved,  and  Miss  Bratton  came  back  with  an  arch  air  of 
reproof,  saying  to  him,  "  You  must  behave  better  another 
time." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  always  be  afraid  of  you." 

I  went  home  that  night  with  an  increase  of  hope,  and  a 
growing  determination  to  declare  my  sentiments.  I  scarce 
ly  slept,  so  busily  was  my  mind  occupied  in  creating  possi 
ble  situations,  and  enacting  the  tender  drama  in  advance. 
I  succeeded  in  everything  but  her  answers,  which  I  could 
not  —  through  sympathy  with  myself — make  rejective,  yet 
did  not  dare  to  make  consentive. 

I  had  hoped,  all  along,  that  some  happy  accident  might 
disclose  the  truth,  —  that  some  mutually  felt  warmth  of  long 
ing  might  bring  us  naturally  to  the  brink  where  my  confes 
sion  would  be  the  first  step  beyond  ;  but  no  such  came.  I 
must  either  seek  or  make  the  opportunity.  After  much 
painful  uncertainty  of  mind,  I  hit  upon  what  I  "suppose 
must  be  a  very  general  device  of  young  lovers,  —  to  an 
nounce  my  approaching  departure,  and  be  guided  by  the 
manner  in  which  she  should  receive  it. 

The  month  of  March  drew  to  a  close,  and  I  had  but  one 
week  more  of  the  school  before  the  coveted  chance  ar 
rived.  It  was  Saturday  afternoon,  and  one  of  those  deli 
cious  days  of  windless  and  cloudless  sunshine  when  the 
sad-hued  earth  sleeps,  and  sleeping,  dreams  of  summer.  I 
walked  up  the  creek,  in  order  to  look  for  arbutus-blossoms 
on  a  wooded  knoll  above  the  mill-dam.  We  had  been  talk 
ing  of  them  a  few  days  before,  and  she  had  told  me  where 
they  grew.  I  found  the  plants,  indeed,  pushing  forth  from 
under  the  fallen  leaves,  but  the  flowers  were  not  yet  devel 
oped.  I  gathered,  instead,  a  bunch  of  club-moss,  and  took 
my  seat  upon  an  old  stump,  to  listen  to  a  bluebird  that 
sang  from  the  willow-thicket  below.  Something  in  the  in 
dolent  quiet  of  the  air  reminded  me  of  the  shady  glen  at 
Honeybrook,  and  I  thought  of  my  cousin  Penrose.  How 
far  away  it  seemed ! 


174  JOHN  GODFEEY'S  FORTUNES. 

After  a  while  I  heard  the  sound  of  wheels  approaching 
on  the  road  from  Cardiff,  and  a  light  open  wagon  came  into 
sight  around  the  head  of  the  knoll.  I  recognized  Sep 
Bratton  by  his  voice  before  I  could  distinguish  his  figure 
through  the  trees ;  and  the  dark-blue  drapery  beside  him 
—  could  it  be  ?  —  yes,  it  really  was  —  Amanda  !  The  road 
passed  some  thirty  or  forty  feet  below  me,  but  neither  of 
them  looked  up  in  my  direction. 

"  I  'm  going  down  to  the  Buck,"  I  heard  Sep  say,  "  but 
I  '11  let  you  off  at  the  turning.  Or,  do  you  want  to  stop 
and  see  Sue  Yule  ?  " 

"  Not  to-day,"  she  answered.  "  But  don't  stay  long,  Sep. 
You  know,  Pa  don't  like  it." 

T  listened  no  more,  for  a  wild  idea  shot  through  my  brain : 
I  would  cross  the  stream  above  the  dam,  hurry  down  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  intercept  her !  As  soon  as  the  vehi 
cle  disappeared,  I  bounded  down  the  knoll,  leaped  the  nar 
row  channel,  and  stole  as  rapidly  as  possible,  under  cover 
of  the  thickets,  towards  the  path  she  must  take.  I  had 
plenty  of  time  to  recover  my  breath,  for  she  was  still  stand 
ing  beside  the  wagon,  talking  to  Sep,  who  seemed  excited. 
I  could  hear  the  sound  of  his  voice,  but  not  the  words. 

At  last,  the  sweet  suspense  terminated.  Sep  drove  off, 
and  I  saw  her  gradually  approach.  Assuming  a  careless, 
sauntering  air,  which  belied  my  inward  perturbation,  I 
emerged  into  view,  walked  a  few  steps,  paused  and  looked 
around,  seemed  suddenly  to  perceive  her,  and  then  went 
forward  to  meet  her. 

Never  had  she  looked  so  lovely.  Her  eyes  expressed 
the  same  unchanging  calm,  harmonizing,  as  I  thought,  with 
the  peaceful  sky  over  us,  but  the  air  had  brought  a  faint 
tinge  to  her  cheek  and  ruffled  a  little  the  smoothness  of  her 
light-brown  hair.  I  noticed,  also,  the  steady  even  measure 
of  her  step :  if  there  had  been  harebells  in  her  path,  they 
would  have  risen  up  from  it,  elastic,  as  from  the  foot  of  the 
Lady  of  the  Lake.  She  carried  a  dainty  parasol,  closed, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  175 

and  occasionally  twirled  it  on  her  forefinger  by  an  ivory 
ring  at  the  end  of  the  handle. 

By  the  time  we  had  exchanged  greetings,  and  I  had  spo 
ken  of  the  arbutus  and  given  her  the  club-moss,  we  passed 
the  dam,  and  the  road  would  soon  bring  us  to  Bratton's 
gate.  What  I  had  to  say  must  be  said  speedily. 

"  I  am  going  to  leave  here,  Miss  Bratton." 

"  Inde-e-d  !  So  soon  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  pausing  in  her 
walk,  as  I  had  done. 

"  Yes,  I  am  going  to  New  York.  This  may  be  my  last 
walk  with  you.  Let  us  go  down  the  bank,  as  far  as  the  old 
hemlock." 

She  seemed  to  hesitate.  "  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  at 
last.  "  Ma  expects  me."  But  while  she  spoke  her  steps 
had  turned  unconsciously,  with  mine,  into  the  footpath. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  why  I  go,"  I  continued.  "  Not  be 
cause  I  have  not  been  very  happy  here,  but  this  is  not  the 
life  for  me.  I  must  be  an  author,  if  I  can,  —  something,  at 
any  rate,  to  make  my  name  honorable.  I  feel  that  I  have 
some  little  talent,  and  if  I  am  ambitious  it  is  not  for  myself 
alone.  I  want  to  be  worthy  of  my  —  friends." 

"  Oh,  you  are  that  already,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  said  she. 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Miss  Amanda  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

Her  voice  expressed  a  positiveness  of  belief  which  was 
grateful,  but,  somehow,  it  did  not  encourage  me  to  the  final 
avowal.  I  had  reached  the  brink,  however,  and  must 
plunge  now  or  never. 

"  If  I  should  make  myself  a  name,  Miss  Amanda,"  I 
went  on,  with  broken,  trembling  voice,  "  it  will  be  for  your 
sake.  Do  you  hope,  now,  that  I  shall  succeed  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer. 

"I  must  tell  you,  before  I  go,  that  I  love  you  —  have 
loved  you  since  we  first  met.  I  am  presumptuous,  I  know, 
to  ask  for  a  return,  but  my  heart  craves  it." 

I  paused.  She  had  partly  turned  away  her  head,  and 
seemed  to  be  weeping. 


176  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  Tell  me,  you  are  not  offended  by  what  I  have  said,"  I 
entreated. 

"  No,"  she  murmured,  in  a  scarcely  audible  voice. 

A  wild  hope  sprang  up  in  my  heart.  "  You  do  not  com 
mand  me  to  forget  you  ? " 

"  No,"  said  she,  as  faintly  as  before. 

"  Then  may  I  go  and  labor  in  the  blessed  knowledge  that 
you  think  of  me,  —  that  you  will  be  faithful  as  I  am  faith 
ful,  —  that,  —  O  Amanda  !  is  it  really  true  ?  Do  you  re 
turn  my  love  ?  " 

She  had  buried  her  face  in  her  handkerchief.  I  gently 
put  one  arm  around  her  waist  and  drew  her  towards  me. 
Her  head  sank  on  my  shoulder.  "  Speak,  darling  !  "  I  en 
treated. 

"  I  cannot,"  she  whispered,  hiding  her  face  on  my  breast. 

It  was  enough.  A  pulse  of  immeasurable  joy  throbbed 
in  my  heart,  chimed  wonderful  music  in  my  ears,  and  over 
flowed  in  waves  of  light  upon  the  barren  earth.  The  hill 
tops  were  touched  with  a  nimbus  of  glory,  and  far  beyond 
them  stretched  a  shining  world,  wherein  the  thorns  burst 
into  muffling  roses,  and  the  sharp  flints  of  the  highway  be 
came  as  softest  moss.  I  loved,  and  I  was  beloved ! 

My  arms  closed  around  her.  My  face  bent  over  her, 
and  my  lips  sealed  on  hers  the  silent  compact.  I  would 
not  torture  her  pure,  virginal  timidity  of  heart.  Her  sweet 
and  natural  surrender  spoke  the  words  which  her  voice 
could  not  yet  utter.  I  repeated  my  own  declaration,  with 
broken  expressions  of  rapture,  now  that  my  tongue  was 
loosed  and  the  courage  of  love  had  replaced  its  cowardice. 

"We  reached  the  old  hemlock,  I  knew  not  how,  and  sat 
down  on  the  bank,  side  by  side.  I  took  and  tenderly  held 
her  hand,  which  trembled  a  little  as  it  lay  in  mine.  Meas 
uring  her  agitation,  as  woman,  by  mine,  as  man,  I  could 
readily  make  allowance  for  all  that  was  passive  in  her  atti 
tude  and  words.  I  had  burst  upon  her  suddenly  with  my 
declaration,  startling  the  innocent  repose  of  her  heart  with 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  177 

the  consciousness  of  love,  and  she  must  have  time  to  be 
come  familiar  with  the  immortal  guest. 

I  explained  to  her  my  plans,  so  far  as  they  possessed  a 
definite  shape.  My  success  in  literature  I  spoke  of  as  a 
thing  assured ;  one  year,  or,  at  most,  two,  would  be  suffi 
cient  to  give  me  a  sure  position.  Then  I  could  boldly  re 
turn  and  claim  her  as  my  precious  reward,  —  now,  I  must 
be  satisfied  with  my  blissful  knowledge  of  her  love,  upon 
which  I  should  rely  as  upon  my  own.  My  trust  in  her  was 
boundless,  —  if  it  were  not  so,  I  could  not  possibly  bear  the 
pangs  of  absence. 

"  We  shall  write  to  each  other,  shall  we  not,  Amanda  ?  " 
I  asked.  "  Our  hearts  can  still  hold  communion,  and  im 
part  reciprocal  courage  and  consolation.  Promise  me  this, 
and  I  have  nothing  more  to  ask." 

"  If  we  can  arrange  it  so  that  no  one  shall  know,"  she 
answered.  "  I  would  n't  have  Pa  or  Ma  find  it  out  for  any 
thing.  I  'm  sure  they  would  n'f  hear  of  such  a  thing  yet 
awhile.  But  we  are  both  young,  Mr.  Godfrey  "  — 

"  Call  me  '  John,' "  I  murmured,  in  tender  reproach. 

She  beamed  upon  me  a  sweet,  frank  smile,  and  contin 
ued  :  "  We  are  so  young,  John,  and  we  can  wait  and  hope. 
I  am  sure  if  ever  anybody  was  constant,  you  are.  You 
must  write,  but  not  very  often.  If  you  could  only  send 
your  letters  so  that  Pa  or  Sep  should  not  see  them !  Sep 
would  soon  notice  them,  and  you  know  how  he  talks  ! " 

I  was  equally  convinced  of  the  propriety  of  keeping  our 
attachment  secret  for  the  present.  The  difficulty  in  rela 
tion  to  correspondence  had  not  occurred  to  me  before.  It . 
was  a  new  proof  of  the  interest  she  felt  in  the  successful 
issue  of  our  love. 

"  How  can  it  be  done  ?  "  said  I.     "  We  might  send  our 

O 

letters  through  somebody  else.    There  's  Dan  Yule,  as  hon 
est  a  fellow  as  ever  lived !  " 

"  Oh  ! "  she  exclaimed,  "  nobody  must  know  what  —  what 
you  have  said  to  me !  " 
12 


178  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  He  shall  not  know ! "  I  protested.  "  I  '11  make  up  some 
story  to  explain  the  letters  to  Dan,  and  he  's  so  simple- 
minded,  he  never  suspects  anything.  •  Or,  is  there  anybody 
else?" 

No,  she  could  think  of  no  one,  and  she  finally  consented, 
though  with  reluctance,  to  the  proposal.  She  now  insisted 
on  returning  home,  and  I  must,  perforce,  be  satisfied  with 
one  more  kiss  before  we  emerged  from  the  screen  of  the 
brook-trees.  On  reaching  the  road,  we  parted  with  a  long 
clasp  of  hands,  which  said  to  me  that  her  heart  now  recog 
nized  the  presence  of  love,  and  would  be  faithful  forever. 

I  saw  her  twice  again  before  my  departure,  but  could 
only  exchange  a  few  stolen  words,  hot  with  compressed 
emotion.  Sorrow  for  the  parting,  and  a  joyous  impatience 
to  be  away  and  at  work  for  her  sake,  were  strangely  min 
gled  in  my  heart ;  yet  joy  was  most  natural  to  my  temper 
ament,  and  it  now  poured  through  my  days  like  a  freshet, 
flooding  over  and  drowning  every  lingering  barrier  of  doubt 
or  self-distrust. 

When  my  school  closed  and  my  account  with  the  direc 
tors  was  settled,  I  found  myself  in  possession  of  nearly 
seventy  dollars,  as  the  net  result  of  my  winter's  labors.  I 
was  also,  had  I  known  it,  entitled  to  receive  the  annual  in 
terest  on  the  sum  in  my  uncle's  hands ;  but  I  was  too  little 
alive  to  mere  material  matters  to  make  any  inquiry  about 
it,  and  supposed  that,  in  breaking  away  from  his  guardian 
ship,  I  had  debarred  myself  from  all  claims  of  the  kind, 
until  I  should  be  my  own  master. 

The  arrangement  with  Dan  Yule,  with  regard  to  my  cor 
respondence  with  Amanda,  was  easily  made.  My  repeated 
declaration  that  it  was  mere  friendly  interchange  of  letters 
would  have  made  any  one  else  suspicious,  but  Dan  merely 
nodded  his  head,  and  said,  "  All  right,  —  I  '11  'tend  to  it." 

The  day  of  departure  came,  and,  with  many  a  hearty 
farewell  and  promise  to  revisit  them,  I  took  leave  of  the 
kind  Yules,  and  commenced  my  journey  into  the  world. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  179 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

IN    WHICH   I    GO    TO    MARKET,    BUT    CANNOT    SELL    MY 
WARES. 

ON  a  cloudy  afternoon,  in  the  early  part  of  April,  behold 
me  stepping  ashore  on  the  Courtlandt  Street  pier,  from  the 
Jersey  City  ferry-boat.  Everything  was  new  and  bewilder 
ing.  The  rush  of  my  fellow-passengers ;  the  cries  of  the 
hackmen,  brandishing  their  long  whips ;  the  crowd  of  carts, 
drays,  and  carriages,  and  the  surge  and  swirl  of  one  chaotic 
whirlpool  of  Noise,  in  the  vortex  of  which  I  seemed  to 
stand,  stunned  and  confused  my  perceptions.  After  nearly 
losing  the  trunk  in  which  my  inestimable  manuscripts  were 
stowed,  and  paying  an  enormous  price  for  its  transfer  to  a 
thick-necked  porter,  who,  I  feared,  would  knock  me  down 
before  I  could  hand  him  the  money,  I  succeeded  in  finding 
quarters  at  Lovejoy's  Hotel,  an  establishment  which  Sep 
Bratton  had  recommended  to  me.  The  officiating  clerk, 
who  struck  me  as  a  fellow  of  very  obliging  manners,  gave 
me  a  front  room  on  the  fourth  story,  on  learning  that  I 
should  probably  remain  a  week  or  two.  I  had  neither  an 
acquaintance  nor  a  recommendatory  letter  to  any  person  in 
the  great  city ;  but  my  funds,  I  supposed,  were  sufficient  to 
support  me  for  two  or  three  months,  and  it  was  quite  im 
possible  that  I  should  not  find  employment  by  that  time. 

I  spent  the  remainder  of  my  first  day  in  wandering 
around  the  Park  and  up  and  down  Broadway,  feasting  my 
eyes  on  the  grandeur  and  novelty  of  everything  I  saw.  I 
knew  not  which  was  most  remarkable  —  the  never-ending 
crowd  that  filled  the  chief  thoroughfare,  the  irregular  splen- 


180  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

dor  of  the  shops,  or  the  filthiness  of  the  pavement.  With 
the  recollection  of  the  tmdeviating  Philadelphian  squares 
of  brick  bound  in  white  marble  in  my  mind,  I  could  with 
difficulty  comprehend  that  I  had  not  passed  into  some  for 
eign  country.  I  was  also  favorably  impressed  with  the 
•apparent  friendliness  of  the  inhabitants.  Although  the 
most  of  them  passed  me  without  even  a  glance,  I  was  ac 
costed  in  the  Park  by  several  gentlemen,  who,  probably 
recognizing  the  stranger  in  my  air,  asked  me  if  I  did  not 
wish  to  see  the  city.  Indeed,  they  were  so  importunate 
that  I  had  some  difficulty  in  declining  their  proffered  ser 
vices.  Then,  as  evening  came  down  on  Broadway,  I  was 
quite  surprised  at  receiving  now  and  then  a  greeting  from 
a  superbly  dressed  lady,  who  certainly  could  never  have 
seen  me  before.  Some  of  them,  in  fact,  seemed  to  be  on 
the  point  of  speaking  to  me  ;  but  as  I  feared  they  had  mis 
taken  me  for  some  one  else,  I  hurried  away,  slightly  embar 
rassed. 

I  was  so  impatient  to  explore  the  field  which  I  intended 
thenceforth  to  cultivate,  that,  as  soon  as  I  had  taken  break 
fast  next  morning  in  the  subterranean  restaurant  of  the 
hotel,  I  set  out  for  the  office  of  "  The  Hesperian,"  which 
was  near  at  hand,  in  Beekman  Street.  A  small  boy  was 
just  taking  down  the  shutters.  On  my  inquiring  for  Mr. 
Jenks,  he  informed  me  that  that  individual  would  be  in  at 
eleven  o'clock,  when  I  might  call  again,  if  I  wanted  to  see 
him.  During  the  intervening  three  or  four  hours  I  wan 
dered  about,  from  the  Battery  to  Canal  Street,  purchased 
and  read  two  or  three  literary  papers  I  had  never  heard  of 
before,  and  supplied  myself  with  several  manuscripts,  for 
Mr.  Jenks's  inspection. 

On  returning  to  "  The  Hesperian  "  office,  I  found  a  tall, 
thin-faced  young  man,  with  a  black  moustache,  behind  the 
counter.  He  was  making  up  bundles  of  the  magazine,  and 
the  number  of  copies  on  the  shelves  behind  him  excited 
my  amazement.  If  this  was  Jenks,  I  thought,  no  doubt  he 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  181 

was  a  young  author  like  myself,  and  would  receive  me  with 
the  open  arms  of  fraternal  sympathy. 

"  Are  you  Mr.  Jenks  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  No  :  wish  to  see  him  particular  ?  " 

It  was,  therefore,  only  W.  Timms,  the  "  per." 

"  Anything  /  can  do  for  you  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I,  "  I  should  like  to  see  Mr.  Jenks 
himself,  a  moment,  if  he  's  in." 

By  way  of  answer,  he  twirled  his  left  thumb  towards  the 
back  of  the  office,  giving  a  jerk  of  his  head  in  the  same 
direction,  as  he  tied  another  bundle. 

Looking  that  way,  I  saw  that  one  corner  of  the  office 
was  partitioned  off  from  the  rest,  monopolizing  more  than 
half  the  light  of  the  back-window.  The  door  to  this  en 
closure  was  open,  and  I  could  distinguish  a  large  head, 
mounted  on  a  square  body,  within. 

Mr.  Jenks  was  absorbed  in  the  perusal  of  a  newspaper, 
which  he  held  before  him,  firmly  grasped  in  both  hands,  as 
if  about  to  tear  it  in  twain.  Before  he  looked  up,  I  had 
time  to  take  a  rapid  survey  of  his  appearance.  He  was  a 
man  of  forty-five,  short,  stout,  gray,  and  partly  bald ;  feat 
ures  keen,  rigidly  marked,  and  with  a  hard,  material  stamp 
—  no  gleam  of  taste  or  imagination  anywhere.  He  evi 
dently  noticed  my  entrance,  but  finished  his  sentence  or 
paragraph  before  consenting  to  be  interrupted. 

"Well?"  said  he,  suddenly,  tossing  the  paper  to  one 
side  :  "  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  remember,"  I  mildly  suggested,  "  writing 
to  me  about  my  poem  of  '  Leonora's  Dream,'  which  will  be 
in  '  The  Hesperian '  for  May." 

"  What 's  your  name  ?  "  he  asked. 

«  Godfrey." 

"  What 's  the  handle  to  your  '  Godfrey '  ?  " 

This  question  was  not  only  rude  but  incomprehensible. 
I  supposed,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  that  he  must  mean 
my  business  or  vocation,  and  was  about  to  explain,  when  he 


182  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  Your  given  name  ?  " 

I  gave  it. 

He  stretched  forth  his  arm,  took  a  folio  volume  from  its 
upright  niche  over  his  desk,  looked  at  its  index,  turned 
over  the  pages  until  he  found  what  was  probably  a  copy  of 
the  letter,  and  read,  jerking  out  these  words  as  he  did  so  : 

"  Yes  —  Godfrey  —  May  number  —  magazine  for  six 
months  gratuitously."  Here  he  slapped  the  volume  shut, 
replaced  it,  and  reiterated,  "  Well  ?  " 

"  I  have  brought  some  other  poems,"  I  said.  "  Perhaps 
you  might  like  some  of  them.  I  have  come  to  New  York 
to  make  literature  my  profession,  and  should  therefore  ex 
pect  to  be  paid  for  my  articles.  Here  is  a  long  narrative 
poem,  which  I  think  my  best;  it  is  a  romantic  subject  — 
<  Ossian  on  the  Hill  of  Morven/  Would  you  like  to  look 
at  it?" 

He  took  the  proffered  manuscript,  tossed  over  leaf  after 
leaf  to  see  its  length,  and  then  addressed  me  with  unneces 
sary  energy :  "  Young  man,  this  may  be  apples  of  gold  in 
pictures  of  silver,  for  anything  I  know,  —  but  it  won't  do 
for  me.  It  would  make  ten  pages  of  the  magazine,  and 
four  a  month  is  as  much  as  I  can  allow  for  poetry.  I  have 
a  bushel-basket  full  of  contributions  which  I  can't  use. 
The  public  want  variety.  It 's  a  good  thing  to  encourage 
young  writers,  and  we  reckon  to  do  our  share,  —  but  busi 
ness  is  business." 

Very  much  discouraged,  yet  unwilling  to  give  up  all  hope 
of  literary  occupation,  I  asked  whether  it  would  not  be  pos 
sible  for  me  to  furnish  articles  of  another  character. 

"You're  hardly  up  to  what  I  want,"  said  Mr.  Jenks. 
"  I  'd  like  to  have  a  few  short,  sentimental  stories,  to  piece 
out  with  now  and  then,  —  something  light  and  airy,"  (here 
he  made  a  spiral  upward  movement  with  his  forefinger,) 
"  such  as  women  like  to  read,  —  with  a  good  deal  of  Milli 
nery  in  them.  It  takes  practice  just  to  hit  the  mark  in 
these  things." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  183 

"  I  might  try,  Mr.  Jenks,"  I  suggested. 

"  As  you  please.  But  I  make  no  engagements  before 
hand,  except  with  standard  authors.  What  have  you 
there?" 

I  handed  him  the  remaining  sheets,  which  contained 
various  brief  lyrics,  mostly  of  an  amatory  character.  He 
whirled  them  over  in  the  same  rapid  way,  reading  a  line 
here  and  there,  and  then  returned  them,  together  with  my 
"  Ossian." 

"  One  or  two  things  there  might  do,  if  I  was  n't  over 
stocked,"  he  said.  "  Besides,  you  're  not  known,  and  your 
name  would  be  no  advantage  to  the  Magazine.  Get  a  lit 
tle  reputation,  young  man,  before  you  try  to  make  your  liv 
ing  by  literature.  Write  a  sonnet  on  a  railroad  accident, 
or  something  else  that  everybody  will  read,  or  have  one  of 
your  singable  poems  set  to  music  and  made  fashionable, 
and  then  I  '11  talk  to  you.  You  can't  expect  me  to  pay, 
while  there 's  a  young  and  rising  genius  on  every  bush,  and 
to  be  had  for  the  picking." 

As  he  said  this,  he  turned  short  around  to  his  desk,  and 
began  opening  a  pile  of  letters.  Nothing  was  left  to  me 
but  to  retreat,  in  rather  a  disordered  manner.  W.  Timms 
gave  a  significant  glance  at  the  manuscripts  in  my  hand  as 
I  passed  out  through  the  store,  and  I  hastened  to  hide  them 
in  the  breast-pocket  of  my  coat.  I  will  not  conceal  the  fact 
that  I  was  deeply  humiliated,  not  so  much  because  my 
poems  were  refused,  as  because  I  had  voluntarily  come 
down  to  the  plane  where  I  must  submit  to  be  tested  by 
coarse,  material  standards.  I  felt  now  for  the  first  time 
that  there  is  an  Anteros,  as  well  as  an  Eros,  in  literature, 
and  the  transition  from  one  to  the  other  was  too  sudden  to 
be  made  without  a  shock.  I  began  to  fear  that  what  I  be 
lieved  to  be  Inspiration  would  accomplish  little  towards  the 
furtherance  of  my  plans,  unless  it  were  allied  to  what  I 
knew  to  be  Policy  ;  —  in  other  words,  that  my  only  chance 
of  success  with  "  The  Hesperian  "  lay  in  writing  one  of  the 


184  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

short,  airy,  millinery  tales,  which  Mr.  Jenks  could  use  "  to 
piece  out  with." 

The  idea  grew  less  repulsive,  as  I  brooded  over  it.  I 
found  my  mind  spontaneously  at  work,  contriving  charac 
ters  and  situations,  almost  before  I  knew  it.  By  night,  I 
had  wellnigh  decided  to  make  the  attempt.  Meanwhile,  I 
recognized  that  there  was  a  grain  of  truth  amid  the  harsh 
ness  of  Mr.  Jenks's  concluding  words.  I  should  certainly 
have  but  little  chance  of  obtaining  employment  unless  my 
name  were  known  to  some  extent.  "  Selim,"  of  course, 
must  be  dropped,  and  "  John  Godfrey  "  stand  forth  boldly 
as  the  father  of  his  own  angelic  progeny ;  but  even  then, 
I  was  not  sure  that  the  reputation  would  immediately  fol 
low.  I  might  plunge  into  the  golden  flood  as  soon  as  I  was 
able  to  swim,  but  how  could  I  learn  the  art  on  the  dry  land 
of  poverty  and  obscurity  ?  One  of  the  suggestions  struck 
me  as  being  plausible.  I  knew  how  eagerly  songs  are 
passed  from  voice  to  voice  through  the  country,  and  music 
seemed  a  fitting  adjunct  to  some  of  my  shorter  lyrics.  If, 
for  instance,  that  commencing  "  I  pine  for  thee  at  night 
and  morn  "  were  wedded  to  some  fair  and  tender  melody, 
it  alone  might  raise  me  in  a  short  time  from  the  darkness 
of  my  estate. 

In  the  afternoon,  therefore,  I  made  another  venture. 
Not  deterred  by  the  crossed  banjos  in  the  window  of  a 
music-store,  and  the  lithograph  of  Christy's  Minstrels,  in 
costume,  on  the  title-page  of  a  publication,  I  entered  and 
offered  my  finer  wares.  I  was  received  with  more  courtesy 
than  at "  The  Hesperian  "  office,  but  the  result  was  the  same. 
The  publisher  dealt  rather  in  quadrilles,  polkas,  and  Ethio 
pian  melodies,  than  songs  of  a  sentimental  character.  He 
read  my  poems,  which  he  pronounced  very  sweet  and  ten 
der,  and  thought  they  might  be  popular,  —  but  more  de 
pended  on  the  air  than  on  the  words,  and  it  was  rather  out 
of  his  line.  His  politeness  encouraged  me  to  use  a  little 
persuasion,  yet  without  effect.  He  was  sorry,  etc.,  —  under 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  185 

other  circumstances,  etc.,  —  and  I  felt,  finally,  that  his 
smooth  manner  covered  a  fixed  decision.  I  went  home 
towards  evening,  with  the  manuscripts  still  in  my  pocket. 

It  is  useless  to  deny  that  my  hopes  were  somewhat  dashed 
by  the  day's  experience.  Already  the  fragrance  of  life 
began  to  drift  away,  and  the  purple  bloom  to  fade.  Even 
a  poet,  I  saw,  (and  whether  I  were  one  or  not,  this  was  the 
only  character  in  which  I  had  presented  myself,)  met  with 
a  cold  and  questioning  reception  from  the  world.  What 
ever  I  might  achieve  must  be  the  spoil,  not  the  gift,  of 
Fate :  I  must  clench  for  a  blow  the  hand  which  I  had 
stretched  out  with  an  open  palm.  All  my  petty  local 
triumphs,  my  narrow  distinctions,  my  honest  friendships, 
were  become  absolutely  nothing.  I  wore  no  badge  that 
could  be  recognized,  but  stood  naked  before  a  world  that 
would  test  every  thew  of  my  frame  before  it  clothed  me 
with  its  mantle  of  honor. 

Physical  fatigue  and  the  reaction  from  my  first  causeless 
yet  inevitable  excitement  added  to  the  gloom  of  the  mood 
that  fell  upon  me.  Let  no  one  tell  me  that  there  are  na 
tures  so  steeled  and  strung  to  their  purpose  that  they  never 
know  discouragement.  Some,  indeed,  may  always  turn  a 
brave  face  to  their  fellow-beings ;  a  few,  perhaps,  might 
sooner  die  than  betray  a  flagging  courage ;  but  no  high 
prize  was  ever  reached  by  a  brain  unacquainted  with  doubt. 

I  read  something  —  I  forget  what  —  to  escape  from  my 
self,  and  went  early  to  bed.  There,  I  knew,  I  should  find 
a  certain  balm  for  all  moral  abrasions.  With  each  article 
of  clothing  I  laid  aside  a  heavy  thought,  and  when  my  body 
dipped  into  the  air  as  into  some  delicate,  ethereal  fluid, 
every  material  aspect  of  life  drifted  away  like  fragments  of 
a  wreck  and  left  me  the  pure  sensation  of  existence.  Then 
I  sank  into  my  bed,  as  some  wandering  spirit  might  sink  to 
rest  for  a  while,  upon  a  denser  cloud,  cool  with  dew,  yet 
warm  with  rosy  sunshine.  Every  joint  and  muscle  fell  into 
slack,  exquisite  repose,  or,  if  sometimes  a  limb  stretched 


186  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

itself  forth  with  an  exploring  impulse,  it  was  simply  to  en 
joy  more  fully  the  consciousness  of  its  freedom.  My 
breast  grew  light  and  my  heart  beat  with  an  even,  velvety 
throb ;  the  restless  thoughts  laid  themselves,  one  by  one, 
to  sleep,  and  gentle,  radiant  fancies  whispered  from  the  pil 
low.  In  that  sensation  lay  for  me  almost  the  only  pure  and 
perfect  blending  of  body  and  spirit ;  —  their  natural  enmity 
forgotten,  their  wavering  bounds  of  rule  softly  obliterated, 
they  clasped  each  other  in  a  brief  embrace  of  love. 

Wretched,  thrice  wretched  is  the  man  whose  bed  has 
ceased  to  be  a  blessing  —  whose  pillow  no  longer  seems, 
while  his  eyes  close  with  a  murmured  word  of  prayer,  the 
arm  of  God,  tenderly  upholding  his  head  during  the  help 
lessness  of  Sleep ! 

In  the  morning,  I  put  on  a  portion  of  my  trouble  with 
uiy  clothes.  I  was  yet  without  a  moral  disinfectant,  and  the 
rustling  of  the  manuscripts  in  my  pocket  brought  back  some 
of  yesterday's  disappointment.  I  had  no  intention,  how 
ever,  of  giving  up  the  struggle ;  it  had  become  a  sort  of 
conscience  with  me  to  perform  what  I  had  once  decided 
upon.  The  obligation  was  not  measured  by  the  importance 
of  the  act.  I  had  half  made  up  my  mind  to  attempt  a  short 
"  millinery  "  story  for  "  The  Hesperian  "  ;  but,  even  if  this 
should  fail,  there  were  other  literary  papers  and  periodicals 
in  the  city.  My  interview  with  the  music-dealer  had  left  a 
more  agreeable  impression  than  that  with  Mr.  Jenks.  Gen 
eralizing  from  single  experiences,  as  a  young  man  is  apt  to 
do,  I  suspected  that  publishers  of  songs  were  a  more  cour 
teous  and  refined  class  of  men  than  publishers  of  maga 
zines.  I  would  therefore  first  exhaust  this  class  of  chances. 

After  some  search,  I  discovered  another  music-store,  in 
the  lower  part  of  Broadway.  There  was  a  guitar  in  the 
window,  instead  of  banjos,  and  the  title-pages  represented 
young  ladies  gazing  on  the  moon,  bunches  of  forget-me- 
nots,  and  affectionate  pairs  in  crimson  gondolas.  This 
looked  promising,  and  I  entered  with  a  bold  step.  On 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  187 

either  side  ran  a  counter,  heaped  with  squares  of  music- 
sheets,  but  nobody  was  in  attendance.  Beyond  this,  an 
open  space,  in  which  pianos  stood,  and  there  I  saw  two  gen 
tlemen,  one  seated  and  playing  a  lively  air,  the  other  stand 
ing  near  him.  As  I  advanced  towards  them,  the  former 
looked  up  from  his  performance,  addressed  me  in  a  sharp, 
shrill  voice,  with  —  "  Wait  a  minute,  sir  !  "  and  went  on 
playing. 

I  leaned  against  the  end  of  the  counter,  and  heard  what 
followed. 

"  This  is  the  way  it  should  be  played,"  said  the  performer, 
—  "  quite  a  different  movement,  you  see,  from  yours.  I  '11 
sing  two  or  three  lines,  to  show  you  what  I  mean." 

Thereupon,  clearing  his  throat,  he  sang,  with  a  voice 
somewhat  cracked  and  husky, — 

"  When  —  I-ee  am  dying,  the  angels  will  come 
On  swift  wings  a-flying,  to  carry  me  home." 

"  There !  "  he  continued,  "  that 's  about  the  time  I  want,  but 
I  see  you  have  n't  enough  syllables  for  the  notes.  I  had 
to  say  '  a-flying '  to  stretch  the  line  out.  There  's  another 
wanted  in  the  first,  after  '  when.'  I  '11  put  in  another  '  when,' 
and  you  '11  see  how  much  better  it  will  go,  and  faster. 

"  '  When  when  I  am  dying,  the  angels  will  come '  "  — 

"  If  you  please,"  said  the  other  gentleman,  who,  I  now 
saw,  wa^  a  young,  fresh-faced,  attractive  person,  "I  will 
show  how  I  meant  the  song  to  be  sung." 

He  took  his  seat  at  the  piano,  and,  with  a  weak  but  clear 
and  tuneful  voice,  sang  the  same  lines,  but  much  more 
slowly  and  with  a  different  accentuation. 

"  Oh,  that  won't  do,  that  will  never  do  ! "  exclaimed  the 
first,  almost  pushing  him  from  the  stool.  "  It  would  n't  be 
popular  at  all ;  it 's  quite  doleful.  More  spirit,  Mr.  Swans- 
ford!  Listen  again,  —  you  must  see  that  my  idea  is  the 
best,  only  you  should  change  the  words,  and  have  just  as 


188  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

many  syllables  as  notes."     Thereupon  he  sang,  to  a  gallop 
ing  accompaniment,  faster  than  ever,  — 

"  Whenwhen  I  am  dying,  the  angelswillcome 
On  swift  wingswings  flying,  to  carrymehome." 

The  young  man  looked  dejected,  and  I  could  see  that  he 
was  not  in  the  least  convinced.  "  If  you  insist  upon  having 
it  so,  Mr.  Kettlewell,"  said  he,  "  I  must  rewrite  the  music." 

"  I  have  nothing  against  the  music,  Mr.  Swansford,"  said 
the  publisher,  as  I  now  conjectured  him  to  be ;  "  it 's  only 
the  time.  You  might,  perhaps,  put  a  little  more  brilliant 
fingering  in  the  accompaniment,  —  it  would  be  more  pop 
ular.  The  more  showy  music  is,  the  better  it  sells.  Think 
over  the  matter,  while  I  attend  to  this  gentleman." 

He  rose  from  the  piano  and  came  towards  me.  He  was 
a  small  man,  with  lively  gray  eyes,  a  hooked  nose,  and  a 
shrivelled  throat.  "  Business  "  was  written  upon  his  face 
no  less  distinctly  than  on  that  of  Mr.  Jenks,  though  in  dif 
ferent  hieroglyphics.  He  was  easier  to  encounter,  but,  I 
feared,  more  difficult  to  move.  I  told  him  in  a  few  words 
what  I  wanted,  and  offered  him  my  lyrics  for  inspection. 
They  began  already  to  seem  a  little  battered  in  my  eyes ; 
they  were  no  longer  wild-flowers,  fresh  with  dew,  but  wilted 
vegetables  in  a  market-basket. 

"  Hra  —  hm,"  said  he,  "  the  words  are  good  in  their  way, 
though  it  is  n't  much  matter  about  them,  if  the  subject  is 
popular  and  the  air  is  taking.  I  don't  often  do  this,  sort  of 
thing,  Mr. —?" 

"  Godfrey,"  I  remarked. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Godfrey.  The  name  seems  familiar.  What 
songs  of  yours  are  in  circulation  ? " 

I  was  obliged  to  confess  that  none  of  my  effusions  had 
yet  been  sung.  Always  detected  as  a  beginner !  It  is  very 
likely  that,  for  a  single  second,  I  may  have  felt  a  tempta 
tion  to  lie. 

"  That  makes  a  difference,"  he  said.     "  It 's  risky.     But 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  189 

if  you  '11  leave  them,  I  '11  show  them  to  my  composer,  and 
see  what  he  thinks.  How  much  a  piece  do  you  want  for 
them  ?  I  always  like  to  know  terms  in  advance." 

Thankful  not  to  have  received  a  downright  rebuff,  I  in 
formed  him  that  I  was  ignorant  of  the  usual  remuneration, 
but  would  be  satisfied  with  whatever  he  should  think  them 
worth. 

"  Well,"  he  observed,  "  I  mostly  get  common,  sentimental 
songs  for  a  dollar.  There  's  Spenser  G.  Bryan,  to  be  sure, 
he  has  five  dollars,  but  then  his  songs  are  always  fashion 
able,  and  the  sale  makes  up  the  difference  to  me.  You 
could  n't  expect  to  compete  with  a  Spenser  G.  Bryan,  so  I 
suppose  a  dollar  would  be  about  the  right  thing." 

As  he  paused,  awaiting  an  answer,  I  modestly  signified 
my  assent,  although  the  sum  seemed  to  me  terribly  insig 
nificant.  At  that  rate  I  should  have  to  write  three  hun 
dred  and  sixty-five  songs  in  a  year,  in  order  barely  to  live ! 
After  being  notified  that  I  might  call  again  in  eight  or  ten 
days,  to  learn  the  composer's  decision,  I  took  leave  of  Mr. 
Kettlewell. 

This  transaction  gave  me  at  least  a  momentary  courage. 
It  promised  to  be-  a  stepping-stone,  if  of  the  smallest  and 
most  slippery  character.  There  was  also  this  pitiful  conso 
lation,  —  that  I  was  not  the  only  aspiring  young  author, 
struggling  to  rise  out  of  obscurity.  I  could  not  doubt  that 
the  young  man  —  Mr.  Swansford  —  had  come  on  an  errand 
similar  to  mine.  He  was  perhaps  a  little  further  advanced 
—  had  commenced  his  career,  but  not  as  yet  emerged  from 
its  first  obstructions.  I  longed  to  make  his  acquaintance, 
and  therefore  lingered  near  the  place.  In  a  few  minutes 
he  issued  from  the  store,  with  a  roll  of  paper  in  his  hand. 
His  head  was  bent,  and  his  whole  air  expressed  discourage 
ment  :  one  hand  crushed  the  paper  it  grasped,  while  the 
other  was  clenched,  as  it  hung  by  his  side. 

Presently  he  seemed  to  become  magnetically  aware  of 
my  gaze,  and  looked  up.  I  noticed  now,  that  his  skin  was 


190  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

quite  transparent,  and  there  were  dark  shades  under  his 
eyes.  He  wore  a  very  silky  moustache,  and  had  a  soft, 
straggling  tuft  on  his  chin  ;  yet,  even  with  these  masculine 
indications,  his  face  was  delicate  as  a  young  girl's.  I  recog 
nized  a  kinship  of  some  sort  between  us,  and,  fancying  that 
I  read  a  similar  recognition  in  his  eyes,  I  said  to  him,  with 
out  further  prelude,  — 

"You  sang  the  song  correctly." 

"  Did  I  not  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You  heard  how  he  butch 
ered  it ;  —  was  ever  anything  so  stupid  and  so  profane  ? 
But  he  won't  hear  of  anything  else;  I  must  change  it. 
You  offered  him  songs,  too,  I  noticed.  Do  you  compose  ?  " 

"  Only  words  —  not  music." 

"  Then  you  can  only  half  understand  what  I  must  put  up 
with.  You  see  I  always  write  the  melody  first :  it 's  more 
to  me  than  the  poetry.  If  I  knew  a  poet  who  understood 
music,  and  could  give  its  sentiment  truly  in  words,  I  should 
not  try  to  write  them  myself." 

"  I  wish  you  had  seen  the  songs  I  just  left  with  your  pub 
lisher  !  "  I  eagerly  exclaimed.  "  But  I  have  others  in  my 
trunk.  Will  you  come  to  my  room  and  look  over  them, 
Mr.  Swansford  ?  " 

He  accepted  the  invitation,  and  in  the  course  of  an  hour 
or  two  we  became  very  well  acquainted  indeed.  We  inter 
changed  biographies,  and  were  delighted  to  find  here  and 
there  a  point  of  resemblance.  He  was  a  native  of  a  small 
town  in  Connecticut,  where  his  parents  —  persons  of  lim 
ited  means  —  still  lived.  He  had  already  been  a  year  in 
the  city,  studying  music  on  a  fund  derived  from  his  moder 
ate  savings  as  teacher  of  a  singing-class  at  home.  He  was 
four  or  five  years  older  than  myself,  and  thus  possessed  a 
little  more  experience  of  the  ways  of  the  world ;  but  he 
never  had,  and  never  would,  overcome  his  distaste  for  the 
hard,  practical  materialism  which  he  encountered  on  every 
side.  A  few  of  his  songs  had  been  published,  and  had 
attained  a  moderate  success,  without  bringing  him  much 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  191 

remuneration.  He  was  now  far  enough  advanced  in  his  mu 
sical  studies,  however,  to  give  lessons,  and  should  rely  upon 
them  for  support  while  elaborating  his  great  musical  designs. 
I  dimly  felt,  in  the  course  of  our  conversation,  the  presence 
of  a  purer  and  loftier  ideal  than  my  own.  The  first  half- 
unconscious  contrast  of  our  natures  presented  him  sublimed 
and  etherealized  beside  the  sensuous  love  of  Beauty  which 
was  my  strongest  characteristic. 

We  parted  on  good  terms  with  each  other  —  almost  as 
friends.  That  evening  I  returned  his  visit,  at  his  boarding- 
house  in  the  triangular  region  between  the  Bowery  and  East 
Broadway.  He  had  an  attic  room,  with  a  dormer-window 
looking  out  on  a  realm  of  narrow  back-yards,  divided  by 
board-walls,  which  had  received  such  a  nap  from  the  weather 
that  they  resembled  felt  rather  than  wood.  A  bed,  cottage- 
piano,  and  chest  of  drawers  so  filled  up  the  room  that  there 
was  barely  space  for  a  little  table  squeezed  into  the  hollow 
of  the  window,  and  two  chairs.  He  had  no  stove,  and  could 
only  obtain  a  partial  warmth  in  winter  by  leaving  his  door 
open  to  catch  the  atmosphere  from  below.  Above  his  bed 
hung  lithographic  heads  of  Mendelssohn  and  Beethoven. 
Poor  and  starved  as  was  the  aspect  of  the  room,  there  was 
nevertheless  something  attractive  in  its  atmosphere.  It  was 
not  beautiful  by  day,  but  was  admirably  adapted  to  the  mid 
night  isolation  of  genius. 


192  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

CONCERNING  MY   ENTRANCE    INTO    MRS.  VERY's  BOARDING- 
HOUSE,  AND    VARIOUS    OTHER    MATTERS. 

MY  acquaintance  with  Swansford,  at  that  period  of  my 
fortunes,  was  a  piece  of  good  luck  for  which  I  have  ever 
since  been  thankful.  I  derived  a  certain  sort  of  consolation 
—  selfish,  no  doubt,  but  very  natural  —  from  the  knowledge 
that  his  circumstances  were  scarcely  better  than  my  own, 
his  future  equally  uncertain.  "Without  a  friendly  acquaint 
ance,  whose  respect  I  desired  to  retain,  I  should  probably 
have  succumbed  to  the  repeated  rebuffs  I  experienced,  and 
given  up  my  chosen  career  in  despair.  The  thought  of 
Amanda  was  a  powerful  stimulant,  it  was  true,  but  the 
breadth  of  New  Jersey  divided  her  from  me.  Here,  how 
ever,  was  an  ever-present  eye  which  must  not  be  allowed  to 
discover  my  flagging  courage.  I  must  make  good  to  him 
my  first  boast,  and  counterfeit  a  certain  amount  of  energy, 
until  the  force  of  habit  transformed  it  into  the  genuine 
article.  The  efforts  I  made  were  not  without  their  results 
in  my  nature,  and,  since  I  have  come  to  understand  myself 
better,  I  am  reconciled  to  that  mixture  of  pride  and  vanity 
to  which  I  can  now  trace  so  many  of  my  actions. 

During  the  succeeding  week  I  made  many  additional 
trials,  persevering  after  each  failure,  finally,  from  a  curi 
osity  to  assure  myself  that  my  original  plans  were  indeed 
futile.  One  or  two  literary  editors  accepted  a  poem  from 
me  as  an  unpaid  contribution,  but  no  one  was  willing  to 
purchase.  My  only  prospect  of  earning  a  trifle  dwindled 
down  to  the  short  "  millinery  "  story,  which  I  completed 


JOHN   GODFREY'S.  FORTUNES.  193 

and  carried  to  Mr.  Jenks,  who  promised  to  read  it  "  in  the 
course  of  the  week."  Mr.  Kettlewell's  composer  had  no 
objections  to  make  in  regard  to  the  songs  submitted  to  his 
inspection  ;  they  were  smooth  and  sentimental,  he  said,  and 
if  he  had  time,  he  might  marry  some  of  them  to  his  im 
mortal  music  ;  but  he  was  now  busily  engaged  in  preparing 
two  new  quadrilles  and  a  polka. 

I  confided  these  experiences  to  Swansford,  who  did  not 
seem  to  be  in  the  least  surprised ;  so  I,  also,  pretended  to 
take  them  as  a  matter  of  course.  Meanwhile,  my  little 
stock  of  money  was  beginning  to  go,  and  prudence  advised 
me  to  enter  upon  a  more  economical  mode  of  living.  About 
this  time  the  front  attic  in  Swansford's  boarding-house  be 
came  vacant,  and  I  considered  myself  fortunate  in  being 
able  to  secure  it,  with  board,  for  three  dollars  and  a  half 
per  week.  Swansford  took  me  down  to  a  dark  parlor  on 
the  first  floor,  and  summoned  Mrs.  Very,  who  kept  the 
establishment.  It  was  a  splendid  apartment ;  the  carpet- 
pattern  was  of  immense  size,  and  the  furniture  real  ma 
hogany  and  horse-hair.  I  was  obliged  to  wait  some  time 
before  the  appearance  of -Mrs.  Very,  —  a  tall,  middle-aged 
lady  with  an  aquiline  nose.  A  cap  with  crimson  ribbons 
and  streamers  was  thrown  upon  her  head,  concealing  to 
some  extent  the  frowziness  of  her  hair,  and  a  heavy  velvet 
cape  on  her  shoulders  was  so  confused  in  its  fastenings  that 
one  side  was  an  inch  higher  than  the  other.  In  the  dim 
atmosphere,  nevertheless,  she  was  rather  an  imposing 
presence  and  suggested  to  me  at  once  the  idea  of  an 
unfortunate  duchess. 

Swansford  performed  the  ceremony  of  introduction, 
stating  my  wish  to  become  the  occupant  of  the  vacant 
room.  The  lady  bent  her  piercing  eyes  upon  me  and  took 
a  silent  survey  of  my  form. 

"  I  have  not  given  out  the  room  yet,"  she  remarked. 
*'  Miss  Dunlap  spoke  to  me  of  her  cousin  wanting  it,  but 
I  did  n't  promise  positive.  I  wish  to  form  an  agreeable 
13 


194  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

family,  and  would  rather  be  vacant  for  a  week  or  two  than 
have  them  that  don't  seem  rightly  to  belong  to  our  domestic 
circle.  There  are  now  three  ladies  and  two  gentlemen, 
you  know,  Mr.  Swansford ;  so  it  would  seem  proper  for  me 
to  take  another  gentleman.  Mr.  Godfrey,  I  suppose,  would 
not  be  likely  to  have  lots  of  visitors  till  midnight  or  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  I  scarcely  know  anybody  in 
New  York  except  Mr.  Swansford." 

"  That  would  be  a  recommendation,"  Mrs.  Very  reflect- 
ingly  observed.  "  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mortimer  having  the  room 
under  you  ;  they  're  the  oldest  members  of  my  family  and 
stand  by  me  faithful.  Them  that  know  me  generally  do. 
Our  circle  is  the  best  in  Hester  Street,  and  I  often  have 
competition  for  my  vacancies.  I  'm  mostly  full,  all  summer, 
when  other  people,  who  are  not  particular  as  to  genteel 
boarders,  are  half  empty." 

Mrs.  Very  finally  informed  me  that  she  would  make  up 
her  mind  that  evening,  and  dismissed  us  with  a  stately 
salutation.  I  should  have  gone  away  in  great  doubt,  had 
not  Swansford  whispered  to  me,  at  the  door,  "  That 's 
always  her  way  of  talking.  She  has  taken  you  already." 

This  proved  to  be  the  case.  The  next  morning  one  of 
Lovejoy's  porters  followed  me  up  Chatham  Street  with  my 
trunk,  and  I  took  possession  of  the  coveted  attic.  Mrs. 
Very's  residence  was  a  narrow  three-story  house  of  brick, 
with  wooden  steps  and  a  small  platform  before  the  door. 
This  was  called  "  the  stoop."  The  house  was  two  or  three 
blocks  removed  from  the  noise  of  the  Bowery,  and  its  neigh 
borhood  wore  an  aspect  both  of  quiet  and  decay.  The 
street  was  rarely  cleaned,  and  its  atmosphere  was  generally 
flavored  with  the  smells  arising  from  boxes  of  ashes  and 
kitchen-refuse  which  stood  on  the  sidewalks  awaiting  re 
moval.  Most  of  the  houses  were  only  of  two  stories,  some 
of  them  of  wood,  and  Mrs.  Very's  thus  received  a  certain 
distinction.  Whether  or  not  the  hall  was  swept,  the  brass 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  195 

plate  on  the  door,  with  her  name,  was  always  brightly 
scoured.  Not  far  off,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street, 
there  was  a  blind  alley,  leading  to  some  hidden  cluster  of 
tenements,  whence  issued  swarms  of  dirty,  ragged,  and  sav 
age  children. 

The  room  to  which  I  was  conducted  was  almost  a  fac 
simile  of  Swanford's.  It  commanded  a  view  of  the  oppo 
site  side  of  the  street,  and  overlooked  the  mysteries  of  sev 
eral  second  floors.  The  absence  of  a  piano  made  it  seem 
more  spacious ;  its  appointments,  such  as  they  were,  were 
complete ;  and,  indeed,  I  was  not  so  accustomed  to  lux 
ury  as  to  find  the  least  fault  with  them.  The  wall  was 
papered  gray,  with  a  large  blue  pattern,  and  there  was  a 
faded  and  frayed  ingrain  carpet  on  the  floor.  A  very  small 
stand  of  pine-wood,  with  a  drawer  for  soap,  held  the  wash 
bowl  and  pitcher  ;  the  thin  little  towel  was  suspended  from 
a  nail.  I  had,  further,  an  old  chest  with  three  drawers,  sur 
mounted  by  a  square  foot  of  mirror,  and,  as  Swansford  had 
dropped  a  hint  that  I  was  a  young  man  of  literary  habits, 
Mrs.  Very  considerately  added  a  little  table,  with  one 
shrunk  leg,  which  I  steadied  by  means  of  folded  newspa 
pers.  The  bed  was  smaller  and  harder  than  any  I  had  be 
fore  occupied.  The  change  from  the  spacious  beds  of 
Berks  County  was  like  that  from  a  pond  to  a  bath-tub,  and 
I  could  no  longer  stretch  myself  in  all  directions  with  im 
punity.  It  was  symbolic  of  the  contraction  which  my  hopes 
and  my  plans  had  suffered. 

Swansford  had  obtained  two  or  three  pupils,  at  moderate 
terms,  in  the  vicinity,  and  these,  with  his  own  studies,  kept 
him  employed  the  greater  part  of  the  day  ;  but  I  had  noth 
ing  to  do  except  write  and  keep  my  eyes  open  for  any  chance 
that  might  turn  up.  When  we  met  for  dinner  at  five 
o'clock,  —  which  hour  had  been  chosen  by  Mrs.  Very,  as 
she  informed  me,  on  account  of  Mr.  Mortimer,  who  was  as 
sistant  teller  in  one  of  the  Bowery  Banks,  —  I  was  formally 
presented  to  my  fellow-boarders.  Mr.  Mortimer  was  a 


196  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

grave,  middle-sized  man  of  forty,  whose  authority  in  that 
genteel  circle  was  evidently  only  less  than  the  landlady's. 
The  outward  projection  of  his  right  ear-flap,  and  a  horizontal 
groove  in  his  short  hair,  showed  that  the  pen  had  grown  to 
be  a  member  of  his  body.  His  wife,  a  lady  some  five  years 
younger,  was  taller  than  himself,  though  in  dignity  of  de 
portment  she  harmonized  fully.  Her  neck  was  a  very  stiff 
prolongation  of  her  spine,  and  she  had  a  way  of  bending 
her  head  the  least  in  the  world  when  she  spoke  to  you,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  I  will  subdue  my  feelings  and  condescend 
to  speak."  She  was  always  dressed  in  dark  silk,  and  her 
skirts  rustled  a  great  deal.  Even  in  my  attic,  whenever  I 
heard  a  shrill,  sweeping  noise,  like  the  wind  through  a  dead 
thorn-bush,  I  knew  that  Mrs.  Mortimer  was  passing  up  or 
down-stairs. 

The  two  remaining  ladies  were  Miss  Tatting,  and  her 
niece,  Miss  Dunlap.  The  former  kept  a  trimming-store  in 
Grand  Street,  in  which  the  latter  officiated  as  her  assistant. 
There  was  less  difference  between  the  ages  of  the  ladies 
than  their  relationship  would  indicate.  It  was  difficult,  in 
fact,  to  decide  upon  this  question,  especially  in  the  case  of 
the  former  ;  she  might  have  been  twenty-five  and  old-look 
ing,  or  carrying  forty  summers  with  an  air  of  youth.  The 
necessity  of  unbending  to  her  customers  had  given  her  an 
easy,  familiar  manner,  which  seemed  occasionally  to  shock 
the  delicate  sensibilities  of  Mrs.  Mortimer.  Though  com 
paratively  uncultivated,  she  had  a  good  deal  of  natural 
shrewdness,  and  was  well  skilled  in  the  use  of  her  tongue. 
Her  niece  was  cast  in  a  similar  yet  softer  mould.  A  vein 
of  sentiment,  somewhat  weak  and  faded  now,  to  be  sure, 
ran  through  her  composition.  But  she  was  an  amiable 
creature,  and  I  have  not  the  heart  to  dwell  upon  this  little 
weakness,  even  if  it  had  been  more  grotesquely  developed. 

When  Mrs.  Very  took  her  seat  at  the  head  of  the  table 
(Mr.  Mortimer  facing  her  at  the  foot),  her  face  was  still 
flushed  from  her  superintendence  in  the  kitchen,  but  her 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  197 

hair  had  been  rapidly  compelled  to  order,  a  silk  cape  was 
substituted  for  the  velvet  one,  and  correctly  fastened.  A 
small  black  girl  stood  at  her  elbow. 

No  grace  was  said,  although  the  landlady  waited  until 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mortimer  had  lifted  their  eyes  from  their  t 
plates.  Then  she  questioned  each  of  us  in  turn,  "  Shall  I 
send  you  some  of  the  soup  to-day  ?  "  After  the  soup,  Mr. 
Mortimer  carved  a  piece  of  roast-beef,  while  Mrs.  Very  ad 
dressed  herself  to  a  diminutive  remainder  of  cold  ham. 
Potatoes,  turnips,  and  spinage  boiled  in  an  uncut,  tangled 
mass,  completed  the  repast. 

Conversation  rose  as  appetite  declined,  and  after  various 
commonplaces  had  been  discussed,  Mrs.  Very  suddenly  ex 
claimed,  "  Who  do  you  think  I  met,  coming  home  from 
market,  Mrs.  Mortimer  ?  " 

The  lady  addressed  slightly  curved  her  neck  and  an 
swered,  in  the  mild  voice  of  propriety,  "  I  'm  sure  I  don't 
know." 

«  Her ! " 

"  Indeed !  "  said  Mrs.  Mortimer. 

"  You  don't  mean  Mrs.  Gamble,  now,  do  you  ?  "  asked 
Miss  Tatting,  suspending  her  fork  in  the  air. 

"  Mrs.  Gamble  ! "  echoed  Mrs.  Very,  with  an  air  of  tri 
umph.  "They  were  walking  together,  and  there  was  no 
mistaking  her  at  once.  She  seems  to  carry  her  head  high 
enough,  for  all  the  trouble,  and  I  should  n't  wonder  if 
they  'd  cave  in,  though  they  have  said  he  should  never 
darken  their  doors.  I  've  asked  them  to  come  around  to 
tea  some  evening." 

"  Will  they  come  ?  "  all  three  of  the  ladies  exclaimed  at 
once. 

"  They  promised  positive  they  would,  but  could  n't  name 
the  day  certain.  He  does  n't  look  a  bit  down  about  it,  I 
must  say.  Perhaps  they  '11  come  round  when  they  find  it 
only  hurts  themselves.  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  that  I  could 
n't  ask  many  questions." 


198  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

This  theme  was  pursued  by  Mrs.  Very's  domestic  circle 
with  lively  interest.  I  gradually  discovered  that  Mr.  Gam 
ble  was  my  own  predecessor  in  the  attic  room,  and  at  the 
genteel  board  where  I  now  sat. 

The  occasion  of  his  leaving  was  his  marriage  with  the 
daughter  of  a  prosperous  shoe-dealer,  who  was  opposed  to 
the  match  on  account  of  Mr.  Gamble  being  only  clerk  for 
a  soap-boiling  firm.  The  young  lady,  however,  had  a  will 
of  her  own,  and  boldly  married,  in  defiance  of  her  par 
ents.  She  had  not  returned  home  after  the  ceremony,  but 
sent  for  her  wardrobe,  which  the  angry  father  refused  to 
give  up.  The  happy  couple  made  a  short  wedding-trip  to 
the  bridegroom's  relatives  in  the  country,  and  were  just  re 
turning  to  the  city  when  Mrs.  Very  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
intercept  them.  Of  course,  everybody  at  the  table  espoused 
the  cause  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gamble,  the  former  being  still 
claimed  as  a  member  of  the  family.  It  was  well  known 
that  he  would  have  remained,  but  for  the  lack  of  proper 
accommodations,  and  I  fancy  Mrs.  Mortimer  would  have 
willingly  seen  a  vacancy  made  for  the  romantic  pair,  by  the 
removal  of  Miss  Tatting  and  her  niece. 

By  the  time  our  dessert  of  rice-pudding  was  reached,  this 
topic  had  been  quite  exhausted,  and  the  conversation  be 
came  mixed  and  lively.  I  talked  across  the  table  to  Swans- 
ford  about  a  story  which  had  just  appeared  in  one  of  the 
Philadelphia  magazines,  while  Mrs.  Very's  and  Mr.  Morti 
mer's  remarks  crossed  ours  at  right  angles.  Miss  Dunlap 
listened  to  us,  and  her  aunt  was  occupied  with  the  stately 
Mrs.  Mortimer,  apparently  on  the  mysteries  of  dress,  for  I 
caught  such  phrases  as  "a  great  demand  for  chenilles," 
"  corn-color  coming  up  again,"  etc.  etc. 

The  same  scene  repeated  itself  every  day  —  with  slight 
variations.  We  had  veal  sometimes,  instead  of  beef,  and 
tapioca  instead  of  rice.  Mrs.  Mortimer  walked  in  Broad 
way,  and  often  found  subjects  for  short,  decorous,  conde 
scending  narratives.  Swansford  was  questioned  about  his 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  199 

musical  compositions,  and  variously  advised,  —  Miss  Dunlap 
hoping  that  he  would  write  an  opera,  while  Mrs.  Mortimer 
thought  an  oratorio  would  be  much  more  elevated.  The 
boarding-houses  of  Bevins  and  Applegate,  in  the  same  street, 
were  discussed  with  acrid  satire,  in  which  Mrs.  Very  heart 
ily  joined.  In  short,  the  latter's  effort  to  create  a  harmo 
nious  domestic  circle  was  entirely  successful,  so  far  as  the 
satisfaction  of  the  members  with  themselves  was  concerned. 

I  had  been  an  inmate  of  the  house  about  a  week  when  I 
achieved  my  first  success.  Mr.  Jenks,  after  postponing  his 
decision  and  keeping  me  on  thorns  for  three  days  longer, 
finally  made  up  his  mind  to  accept  my  millinery  story,  with 
the  proviso  that  I  changed  the  denouement,  and  instead  of  an 
elopement  reconciled  lanthe's  parents  to  the  match.  "  The 
Hesperian,"  he  said,  was  a  family  magazine,  and  designed  to 
contain  nothing  which  could  plant  an  unconventional  or 
rebellious  thought  in  the  breast  of  infancy.  There  had 
been  several  elopements  in  the  previous  stories,  and  he  had 
already  heard  complaints.  The  article  was  pleasantly  writ 
ten,  and  he  thought  I  might  succeed  in  that  line,  provided 
I  took  care  to  "  give  a  moral  turn  "  to  my  sketches.  What 
could  I  do  ?  Swansford's  experience  with  Kettlewell  now 
came  home  to  me  with  a  vengeance,  but  I  grinned  (I  am 
afraid  I  came  very  near  cursing)  and  endured.  For  the 
story  thus  mutilated  I  was  to  receive  five  dollars  after  its 
appearance.  I  immediately  commenced  another  story,  in 
which  the  characters  were  absolute  angels  and  devils,  wind 
ing  up  by  assigning  the  former  to  Paradise  and  the  latter 
to  Hades.  The  moral  of  that,  I  thought,  would  be  plain 
enough. 

I  now  wrote  a  page  to  Dan  Yule,  stating  that  I  was  well, 
and  hoped  he  was,  with  a  few  little  particulars  of  my  life, 
which  I  thought  would  interest  him.  Inclosed  was  a  letter 
of  sixteen  pages  for  Amanda,  in  which  the  joys  of  love, 
the  sorrows  of  absence,  and  the  longings  for  that  assured 
future  which  wouljl  bring  us  together  again,  were  mixed  in 


200  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

equal  proportions.  I  know  that  my  mind,  released  from 
the  restraints  imposed  by  publishers  of  moral  and  millinery 
tales,  poured  itself  out  freely  and  delightedly  to  the  one 
ear  which  would  hear  me  aright.  It  was  my  first  letter, 
and  I  doubt  whether  her  joy  in  receiving  it  was  greatei 
than  mine  in  writing  it. 

Swansford  knew  nothing,  as  yet,  of  my  attachment.  Al 
though  we  had  become  earnest  friends,  I  could  not  open  to 
him  this  chamber  of  my  heart.  Our  talk  was  mostly  upon 
our  "  kindred  arts,"  as  we  styled  them.  I  was  even  more 
desirous  than  he  to  supply  the  words  for  his  own  melodies, 
and  we  made,  one  day,  a  double  experiment.  I  gave  him 
my  last  and,  of  course,  sweetest  song,  taking  in  return  a 
pensive,  plaintive  air  which  he  had  just  written,  and  set 
myself  to  express  it  in  words  as  he  mine  in  music.  The 
result  was  only  partially  satisfactory.  I  reproduced,  toler 
ably,  the  sentiment  of  the  air,  but  I  was  ignorant  of  the 
delicate  affinity  between  certain  vowel  sounds  and  certain 
musical  notes  —  whence,  though  my  lines  were  better  than 
Swansford's,  they  were  not  kalf  so  easy  to  sing.  This  dis 
covery  led  to  a  long  conversation  and  an  examination  of 
the  productions  of  various  popular  song-writers,  the  result 
of  which  was  an  astonishing  conviction  of  my  own  igno 
rance. 

I  should  have  enjoyed  this  vagabond  life  thoroughly, 
nevertheless,  but  for  the  necessity  which  impelled  me  to 
secure  some  sort  of  provision  for  the  future.  I  saw  no  way 
of  reaching  the  Olympian  society  of  the  celebrated  authors, 
or  in  otherwise  dragging  myself  out  of  the  double  insignifi 
cance  (compared  with  my  position  in  Upper  Samaria)  into 
which  I  had  fallen.  Week  after  week  went  by,  yielding 
me  nothing  but  an  accumulation  of  manuscripts.  I  was 
obliged  to  procure  a  few  better  articles  of  clothing  than  I 
had  brought  with  me,  and  this  made  a  great  hole  in  my 
funds.  Indeed,  with  strict  economy,  they  would  barely  last 
another  month.  Many  a  night  I  lay  awake,  revolving  plans 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  201 

which  brightened  and  grew  rosy  with  the  excitement  of  my 
brain ;  but,  when  morning  came,  the  color  had  faded  out 
of  them,  and  they  seemed  the  essence  of  absurdity. 

I  was  not  devoid  of  practical  faculties,  but  they  had  hith 
erto  lain  dormant,  or  been  suppressed  by  the  activity  of  the 
tastes  and  desires  first  awakened.  I  now  began  to  find  a 
wide  vibration  in  my  nature,  between  the  moods  of  night 
and  day  ;  but  their  reciprocal  action  hastened  my  develop 
ment.  Still,  I  was  at  heart  a  boy,  and  troubled  with  a  boy's 
restless  impatience.  I  had  no  suspicion  of  the  many  and 
the  inevitable  throes  which  men  as  well  as  planets  must 
endure,  before  chaos  is  resolved  into  form. 


202  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

DESCRIBING   MR.  WINCH'S   RECONCILIATION   BALL  AND  ITS 
TWO  FORTUNATE  CONSEQUENCES. 

A  FORTNIGHT  after  my  introduction  into  Mrs.  Very's  do 
mestic  circle,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gamble  redeemed  their  prom 
ise  of  coming  to  tea.  The  important  event  was  announced 
at  dinner  on  the  previous  day,  and  little  else  was  spoken 
of  until  the  appointed  evening  came.  Mrs.  Very  informed 
us,  with  a  solemn  air,  that  we  should  assemble  in  the  parlor 
instead  of  the  basement  dining-room :  Mr.  Gamble,  as  a 
member  of  her  family,  should  be  treated  just  as  well  as 
if  he  were  her  own  brother  ("  son,"  I  thought,  would  have 
been  more  appropriate),  and  the  Winches  should  see  what 
her  behavior  was,  as  compared  with  theirs.  They  might 
hurt  her,  if  they  liked  :  thank  Fortune,  her  house  was  well- 
known,  and  her  boarders  stood  by  her  faithful. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Mortimer,  with  becoming  gravity,  "  we 
must  give  Gamble  a  lift,  now  he  's  in  trouble.  Old  Winch 
keeps  his  deposits  in  our  bank,  but  I  won't  let  that  stand 
between  me  and  what 's  right." 

Mrs.  Mortimer  bent  her  stiff  neck  assentingly. 

We  were  all  seated  in  the  parlor  when  the  bell  rang. 
Mrs.  Very  triumphantly  issued  into  the  hall  and  received 
the  interesting  couple,  while  we  waited  in  silent  expecta 
tion  until  the  usual  rustling  up  and  down  stairs  should  an 
nounce  that  the  bride  had  adjusted  her  toilette.  Then  she 
entered,  dark,  full,  and  voluptuous  in  her  form,  and  resplen 
dent  in  a  dead  golden-colored  silk.  Mr.  Gamble,  beside 
her,  dwindled  into  a  very  commonplace  individual,  as  he 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  203 

no  doubt  was.  He  was  cordially,  if  somewhat  stiffly,  con 
gratulated —  for  the  Very  idea  of  gentility  was  too  con 
scious  of  itself  to  be  easy — by  his  old  friends,  and  the 
bride  received  the  same  with  an  added  tint  of  gracious 
deference.  She,  however,  understood  the  interest  of  her 
position,  and  determined  to  enjoy  it. 

"  Oh,  I  have  heard  of  you  all,  from  Harry ! "  she  ex 
claimed,  shaking  hands  with  everybody,  even  myself,  to 
whom  she  said,  —  "  So,  you  have  fallen  heir  to  his  room ! 
Don't  you  let  him  in,  if  he  ever  repents  of  his  bargain  and 
wants  to  come  back ! " 

Then  she  cast  a  loving,  mischievous  glance  at  her  hus 
band,  who  was  radiant  with  pride  at  the  gay  fascination  of 
her  manner.  "  Now  you  see,  Laura,  from  what  company 
you  have  taken  me  away,"  he  said,  with  a  semicircular 
bow  which  embraced  Mrs.  Very,  Mrs.  Mortimer,  and  Miss 
Tatting.  "  It  was  a  hard  struggle,  I  assure  you."  And  he 
heaved  a  mock  sigh. 

"  You  can't  make  us  believe  that,"  said  Miss  Tatting, 
tapping  him  on  the  arm  with  a  large  green  fan. 

This  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  conversation  during  tea. 
It  was  not  very  intellectual,  I  admit,  but  it  was  quite  a 
pleasant  and  entertaining  change  from  our  usual  routine, 
and  I  enjoyed  it  amazingly.  Mrs.  Gamble  was  the  life  of 
the  company.  Being  privileged  to  give  the  tone  of  the 
evening,  she  did  so  with  a  will,  and  it  was  astonishing  how 
much  fun  and  laughter  we  produced  from  the  most  trifling 
themes.  After  her  departure  we  were  all  loud  in  our  ex 
pressions  of  admiration.  It  was  decided,  without  a  dissent 
ing  voice,  that  Mrs.  Very's  family  circle  would  henceforth 
espouse  the  cause  of  the  Gambles  against  the  Winches. 

About  the  middle  of  May,  however,  we  were  surprised  by 
a  rumor  that  the  unnatural  father  had  been  led,  either  by 
policy  or  penitence,  to  relent,  and  that  Mr.  Gamble  would 
shortly  give  up  his  situation  in  the  soap-boiling  establish 
ment,  to  take  an  important  post  in  Winch  &  Son's  shoe- 


204  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

store.  I  know  not  whether  Mrs.  Very  or  the  Mortimers 
were  most  flattered  by  this  news :  either  party  was  sure 
that  their  countenance  of  the  match  had  something  to  do 

o 

with  it.  The  climax  to  the  general  satisfaction  was  given 
by  a  package  of  notes  which  came,  a  few  days  afterwards, 
stating  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Franklin  Winch  requested  the 
pleasure  of  our  company,  on  Thursday  evening,  at  their 
residence,  No.  322  Columbia  Street. 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  comprehending  the  nature  of 
this  event.  Mr.  Winch,  having  made  up  his  mind  to  do 
the  proper  thing,  intended  to  do  it  in  the  proper  way, 
crushing  gossip  and  family  estrangement  with  the  same 
blow.  The  temptation  to  attend  the  ball  was  too  great  to 
be  resisted,  and  our  inveterate  hostility  to  the  Winches 
came  therefore  to  a  sudden  end. 

When  the  evening  arrived,  we  marched  across  the  Grand- 
Street  region,  like  a  well-ordered  family,  Mrs.  Very  taking 
Mr.  Mortimer's  other  arm,  Miss  Tatting  Swansford's,  and 
Miss  Dunlap  mine.  A  waiter,  in  white  cotton  gloves,  whom 
I  at  first  took  for  Winch  junior,  received  us  at  the  door, 
and  ushered  us  up-stairs  to  our  respective  dressing-rooms. 
Here  were  various  other  gentlemen,  giving  the  finishing 
touch  to  their  scented  and  glistening  hair,  and  drawing  on 
their  new  white  kids.  I  imitated  their  movements,  and 
tried  my  best  to  appear  at  ease  and  au  fait  to  such  occa 
sions.  When  we  descended  to  the  parlor,  Mr.  Gamble 
came  forward  at  once  to  greet  us,  and  presented  us  with  a 
respectful  flourish  to  the  obdurate  Winch  pere,  who  looked 
imposing  in  his  blue  coat  with  gilt  buttons,  buff  Marseilles 
vest,  and  high  white  cravat.  Mrs.  Winch,  dark,  like  her 
daughter,  but  shrivelled,  which  the  latter  was  not,  stood 
beside  her  lord,  in  black  satin,  evidently  as  happy  as  she 
could  well  be.  The  reconciliation,  in  fact,  was  supposed  to 
be  mainly  her  work. 

We,  as  the  son-in-law's  friends,  received  conspicuous  at 
tention.  Mrs.  Gamble  welcomed  us  like  old  acquaintances, 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  205 

and  glided  hither  and  thither  with  a  lazy  grace,  as  she 
strove  to  stir  up  and  blend  us  with  the  other  social  ele 
ments  of  which  the  party  was  composed.  This  was  not 
difficult  in  the  case  of  my  companions,  and  I  resolved,  in 
my  ignorance  of  New  York  habits,  to  imitate  them  in  ev 
erything.  Accordingly,  when  Mrs.  Gamble  asked  me  if  I 
should  not  like  to  be  introduced  to  a  young  lady  "  of  a  lit 
erary  turn,"  in  whom  I  might  discover  "  a  congenial  spirit," 
I  acquiesced  with  enthusiasm,  and  soon  found  myself  seated 
beside  Miss  Levi,  a  remarkable  girl,  with  very  black  hair 
and  eyebrows,  and  a  prominent  nose.  Her  forehead  was 
so  low,  that,  at  a  distance,  it  looked  like  a  white  stripe  over 
her  .eyebrows.  She  wore  a  dress  which  not  merely  showed 
her  shoulders,  but  the  upper  undulations  of  her  bosom,  so 
that,  whenever  she  bent  forward,  my  gaze  fell  into  a  won 
derful  twilight  region,  which  caused  me  to  blush  with  the 
sense  of  having  committed  an  impropriety. 

"Mrs.  Gamble  tells  me  you  are  a  poet,  Mr.  Godfrey," 
she  said.  (How  had  Mrs.  Gamble  learned  that  so  soon  ?  ) 

"  Oh,  I  write  a  little,"  I  modestly  answered. 

"  How  charming !  I  doat  on  poetry.  Won't  you  repeat 
to  me  some  of  yours  ?  " 

I  was  rather  taken  aback  at  this  proposition,  but,  taking 
it  for  .gran ted  that  Miss  Levi  knew  the  ways  of  society 
better  than  myself,  I  repeated  to  her,  in  a  low  voice,  and 
with  some  confusion,  the  last  song  I  had  written. 

"  It  is  beautiful !  "  she  exclaimed,  fixing  her  large,  jet- 
black  eyes  upon  me  with  a  power  I  could  scarcely  endure 
to  meet.  "  Beautiful !  You  must  have  been  inspired  — 
does  she  live  in  the  city  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  "  I  asked,  feeling  that  my  face  sufficiently  be 
trayed  me. 

"  How  can  you  ask  *  who  ?  '  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  Ah,  you 
poets  are  a  sad  class  of  men.  I  'm  afraid  you  are  all  incon 
stant  ;  tell  me,  do  you  think  you  can  be  faithful  to  her  ?  " 

Some  imp  prompted  me  to  reply,  "  I  never  had  any 
doubt  of  it  before  this  evening." 


206  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Godfrey !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  that  is  too  bad  ! 
Now  I  know  you  are  not  in  earnest."  But  she  looked  at 
me  very  much  as  if  she  would  like  me  to  insist  that  I  was. 
I  could  not  carry  the  farce  any  further,  so  endeavored  to 
change  the  subject  by  asking,  "  Do  you  write,  Miss  Levi  ?  " 

"  I  ought  not  to  tell  you,"  she  answered ;  "  but  I  can 
feel" 

Our  talk  was  here  interrupted,  probably  on  the  brink  of 
sweet  intellectual  disclosures,  by  .the  sound  of  the  piano. 
It  was  Swansford,  whom  Mrs.  Gamble  had  persuaded  to 
favor  the  company  with  one  of  his  compositions.  He  gave, 
to  my  surprise,  the  very  song  I  had  just  repeated  to  Miss 
Levi,  with  a  tender  and  beautiful  melody  of  his  own.  This 
generosity  touched  me,  —  for  generosity  it  really  was,  when 
he  might  have  sung  his  own  words.  He  looked  towards 
me  and  smiled,  at  the  close,  seeing  my  gratitude  in  my 
eyes. 

Shortly  afterwards  I  was  released  from  Miss  Levi,  who 
took  Swansford's  place,  and  sang,  "  You  '11  Remember  Me," 
in  a  piercing  voice.  Various  songs  of  the  same  class  fol 
lowed,  and,  even  with  my  own  uncultured  taste,  I  could 
easily  understand  the  look  of  distress  on  Swansford's  face. 

The  double  parlor  was  crowded,  and  it  was  not  long  be 
fore  the  songs  gave  way  to  the  music  of  two  violins  and  a 
harp,  stationed  under  Mr.  Winch's  portrait,  between  the 
front  windows.  The  carpets  had  been  taken  up,  so  that 
everybody  expected  dancing.  Having  a  slight  familiarity 
with  quadrilles,  from  the  "  gatherings  "  in  Upper  Samaria, 
I  secured  Miss  Dunlap,  as  the  partner  with  whom  I  should 
be  least  embarrassed,  and,  after  that,  was  kept  well  supplied 
through  the  efforts  of  the  Gambles  and  young  Winch. 
When  the  waltz  came,  I  withdrew  to  a  corner  and  watched 
the  softly  whirling  pairs,  conspicuous  among  whom  were 
the  hero  and  heroine  of  the  evening.  It  was  delightful  to 
see  the  yielding  grace  with  which  she  trusted  herself  to  his 
arm,  drifting  like  a  swan  on  the  eddies  of  a  stream,  while 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  207 

her  hands  lay  clasped  on  his  shoulder,  and  her  large,  dark 
eyes  lifted  themselves  to  his.  Happy  pair  !  If  I  were  he, 
and  she  were  Amanda  !  —  but  I  ground  the  thought  between 
my  teeth,  and  stifled  the  impatience  of  my  heart. 

Towards  midnight  we  marched  down  to  a  room  in  the 
basement,  where  a  superb  supper  was  arranged.  Mrs.  Very 
supposed  that  it  must  have  cost  fifty*  dollars,  and  she  was 
capable  of  forming  an  opinion.  There  were  oysters,  salads, 
pates,  jellies,  brandy-peaches,  and  bon-bons,  with  tea,  coffee, 
ices,  ana  champagne.  I  now  discovered  that  I  had  a  natural 
taste  for  these  luxuries,  and  was  glad  to  see  that  Swansford 
partook  of  them  with  a  relish  equal  to  my  own.  The  iced 
champagne,  which  I  had  never  before  tasted,  seemed  to  me 
the  nectar  of  the  gods.  Young  Winch  filled  my  glass  as 
often  as  it  was  emptied,  for  a  few  short,  jolly  speeches  were 
made  and  a  great  many  toasts  drunk.  The  ladies  filtered 
away  before  we  knew  it,  and  we  were  first  aroused  from  our 
delightful  revelry  by  Mr.  Mortimer,  who  came,  hat  in  hand, 
to  announce  that  the  Misses  Tatting  and  Dunlap  were  wait 
ing  for  us. 

On  the  way  home  I  confided  to  the  latter  my  interview 
with  Miss  Levi,  and  had  it  on  my  tongue's  end  to  tell  her 
about  Amanda.  I  longed  to  pour  out  my  heart  to  a  sympa 
thizing  ear,  and  would  probably  have  done  it,  had  Hester 
Street  been  a  little  farther  off. 

On  reaching  the  attic  I  went  into  Swansford's  room  for 
a  little  chat,  before  going  to  bed.  He  was  highly  excited. 
He  looked  up  at  the  lithographs  of  Mendelssohn  and  Beet 
hoven,  shook  his  fist,  and  cried,  "  Oh,  you  grand  old  Trojans, 
did  you  ever  have  to  endure  what  I  have  ?  I  don't  believe 
it !  You  had  those  around  who  knew  what  you  were,  and 
what  your  art  is,  but  I,  —  see  here,  Godfrey  !  This  is  the 
insane,  idiotic  stuff  that  people  go  into  ecstasies  about." 

He  sat  down  to  the  piano,  played  a  hideous,  flashy  accom 
paniment,  and  sang,  with  extravagant  voice  and  gesture,  one 
of  the  sentimental  songs  to  which  we  had  been  treated. 


208  JOHN   GODFKEY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  threw  myself  back  on  his  bed,  in  convulsions  of  laugh 
ter. 

"  My  words  are  poor,  enough,"  he  continued,  "  but  what 
do  you  say  to  these  :  — 

"  '  When  ho-hollow  hearts  shall  wear  a  mask, 

'Twill  break  your  own  to  see-he-hee, 
In  such  a  mo-homent,  I  but  ask          « 

That  you  '11  remember  —  that  you  '11  re-MEM-ber 
—  you  '11  re — ME-HE-HEM — be-e-e-r  me ! ' 

—  oh,  and  the  young  ladies  turn  up  their  eyes  like  ducks 
in  a  thunder-storm,  at  that,  and  have  no  ear  for  the  splendid 
passion  of  '  Adela'ida ' !  It 's  enough  to  make  one  despise 
the  human  race.  I  could  grind  out  such  stuff  by  the  bushel ; 
why  not  take  my  revenge  on  the  fools  in  this  way  ?  Why 
not  give  them  the  absurdest  satire,  which  they  shall  suck 
down  as  pure  sentiment  ?  I  '11  laugh  at  them,  and  they  '11 
pay  me  for  it !  Come,  Godfrey,  give  me  some  nonsense 
which  will  pass  for  a  fashionable  song ;  I  'm  in  the  humor 
for  a  bit  of  deviltry  to-night." 

"  Agreed !  "  I  cried,  springing  from  the  bed.  I  eagerly 
caught  at  the  idea,  for  it  seemed  like  a  personal  discharge 
of  my  petty  spite  against  Miss  Levi.  I  took  a  pencil  and 
the  back  of  a  music-sheet,  and,  as  sense  was  not  material 
to  the  composition,  in  a  short  time  produced  the  follow 
ing:— 

"  Away,  my  soul !     This  withered  hand 

No  more  may  sing  of  joy: 
The  roses  redden  o'er  the  land 

Which  autumn  gales  destroy ; 
But  when  my  hopes  shall  shine  as  fair 

As  bowers  beneath  the  hill, 
I  '11  bid  the  tempest  hear  my  prayer, 
And  dream  you  love  me  still ! 

"  The  sky  is  dark :  no  stars  intrude 

To  bind  the  brow  of  day. 
Oh,  why  should  love,  so  wildly  wooed, 

Refuse  to  turn  away? 
The  lark  is  loud,  the  wind  is  high, 

And  Fate  must  have  her  will : 
Ah,  nought  is  left  me  but  to  die, 

And  dream  you  love  me  still !  " 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  209 

.  "  The  very  thing ! "  exclaimed  Swansford,  wiping  away 
tears  of  the  laughter  which  had  twice  interrupted  my  reading. 
"  I  've  got  the  melody  ;  give  me  the  candle,  and  we  '11  have 
the  whole  performance." 

He  sang  it  over  and  over  with  the  purest,  most  rollicking 
relish  introducing  each  time  new  and  fantastic  ornaments, 
until  the  force  of  burlesque  could  no  farther  go.  My  in 
tense  enjoyment  of  the  fun  kept  up  his  inspiration,  and  the 
melody,  with  its  preposterous  accompaniment,  was  fairly 
written  before  our  merry  mood  began  to  decline.  The 
piece  was  entitled  "  A  Fashionable  Song,"  and  we  decided 
that  it  should  be  offered  to  a  publisher  the  very  next  day. 

It  was  late  when  I  awoke,  and  in  the  practical  reaction 
from  the  night's  excitement  I  thought  very  little  of  the 
matter  until  the  sound  of  Swansford's  piano  recalled  it. 
He  met  me,  smiling,  as  he  said,  "  Our  song  is  really  not  a 
bad  thing  of  its  kind,  though  the  kind  is  low  enough.  But, 
of  course,  we  need  never  be  known  as  the  authors." 

He  put  on  his  hat,  and  went  out,  with  the  manuscript  in 
his  hand.  I  accompanied  him  as  far  as  the  Park,  in  order 
to  make  a  call,  to  which  I  did  not  attach  any  particular 
hope,  (I  had  been  too  often  disappointed  for  that !)  but  in 
fulfilment  of  a  promise.  Among  the  new  acquaintances  I 
had  made  at  the  Winch  ball,  was  a  Mr.  Lettsom,  who  was 
acting  as  a  law  reporter  for  various  daily  papers.  In  the 
course  of  a  little  conversation  which  I  had  with  him,  I 
mentioned  my  wish  to  obtain  literary  employment  of  some 
kind,  and  asked  whether  he  knew  of  any  vacancy.  He  in 
formed  me  that  reporting  was  the  surest  resource  for  a 
young  man  who  was  obliged  to  earn  his  living  by  his  pen. 
Most  of  the  prominent  editors,  he  said,  had  begun  life  either 
as  reporters  or  printers,  and  there  could  be  no  better  school 
in  which  to  make  one's  talent  ready  and  available. 

Something  in  Mr.  Lettsom's  plainness,  both  of  face  and 
manner,  inspired  me  with  confidence  in  his  judgment,  and 
I  eagerly  accepted  his  invitation  to  call  upon  him  at  the 
14 


210  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

office  of  the  Daily  Wonder,  where  I  hoped,  at  least,  to  hear 
something  that  would  put  me  on  the  right  track. 

I  found  him  in  the  fourth  story  of  the  building,  at  a  little 
desk  in  the  corner  of  a  room  filled  with  similar  desks,  at 
which  other  gentlemen  were  either  writing  or  inspecting 
enormous  files  of  newspapers.  A  large  table  in  the  centre 
of  the  room  was  covered  with  maps,  dictionaries,  and  books 
of  reference.  There  was  not  much  conversation,  except 
when  a  man  with  smutty  hands,  a  paper  cap  on  his  head, 
and  a  newspaper  tied  around  his  waist,  came  in  and  said, 
"  Hurry  up  with  that  foreign  news  copy !  It 's  time  the 
Extra  was  out !  "  To  me  the  scene  was  both  strange  and 
imposing.  This  was  the  Delphic  cave  whence  was  uttered 
the  daily  oracular  Voice,  which  guided  so  many  thousands 
of  believing  brains  ;  these  were  the  attendant  priests,  who 
sat  in  the  very  adytum  of  the  temple  and  perhaps  assisted 
in  the  construction  of  the  sentences  of  power. 

There  was  nothing  oracular  about  Mr.  Lettsom.  With 
his  thin  face,  sandy  eyebrows,  and  quiet  voice,  he  was  as 
ordinary  a  man  in  appearance  as  one  will  meet  in  a  day's 
travel.  He  seemed,  and  no  doubt  was,  incapable  of  enthu 
siasm  ;  but  there  was  a  mixture  of  frankness,  kindness,  and 
simple  good-sense  in  him  which  atoned  for  the  absence  of 
any  loftier  faculty.  I  had  no  claim  whatever  upon  his 
good  offices  ;  he  scarcely  knew  more  of  me  than  my  name, 
and  had  only  asked  me  to  step  in  to  him  at  an  hour  when 
he  should  have  a  little  leisure  for  talk.  I  was,  therefore, 
quite  overcome,  when,  after  the  first  greetings,  he  said,  — 

"  I  have  been  maiding  inquiries  this  morning,  at  the 
newspaper  offices.  It  is  a  pity  I  did  not  meet  you  sooner, 
as  the  Anniversaries,  when  extra  work  is  always  needed, 
are  nearly  over ;  but  there  may  be  a  chance  for  you  here. 
It  depends  upon  yourself,  if  Mr.  Clarendon,  the  chief  edi 
tor  of  the  Wonder,  is  satisfied  to  try  you.  An  insignificant 
post,  and  poorly  paid,  at  first,  —  but  so  are  all  beginnings. 
So  many  young  men  come  to  the  city  with  high  expecta- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  211 

tions,  that  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  getting  any  num 
ber  of  full-grown  editors  and  critics,  while  the  apprentices' 
places  are  rarely  in  demand.  I  tell  you  this  beforehand. 
We  will  now  call  on  Mr.  Clarendon." 

Before  I  could  recover  my  breath,  we  were  in  the  sacred 
presence,  in  a  small  adjoining  room.  Mr.  Clarendon  sat  at 
a  library  table,  which  rested  on  a  countless  array  of  draw 
ers.  He  was  writing  rapidly  on  long,  narrow  slips  of  pa 
per,  which  he  numbered  and  transferred  from  his  right  to 
his  left  hand  as  they  were  finished.  He  must  have  heard 
our  entrance,  but  neither  lifted  his  head  nor  noticed  us  in 
any  way  until  Mr.  Lettsom  announced,  — 

"  This  is  Mr.  Godfrey,  the  young  gentleman  about  whom 
I  spoke  to  you  this  morning." 

"  Very  well,  Lettsom,"  —  and  the  latter  left  the  room. 
Mr.  Clarendon  bowed  in  an  abstracted  way,  pointed  with 
the  top  of  his  quill  to  a  chair  on  the  other  side  of  the  ta 
ble,  and  resumed  his  writing. 

He  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  good  presence,  and  with 
an  expression  of  penetration,  shrewdness,  and  decision  in 
his  distinctly  moulded  features.  His  head  was  massive  and 
finely  formed ;  the  hair,  once  light-brown,  was  now  almost 
wholly  gray,  and  the  eyes  of  that  rich  golden-bronze  tint 
which  is  as  beautiful  as  it  is  rare.  Although  his  frame  was 
large,  I  was  struck  by  the  smallness,  whiteness,  and  sym 
metry  of  his  hand. 

I  took  the  seat  indicated,  and  waited  for  him  to  speak. 
He  wrote  half  of  one  of  his  slips,  and  then,  having  appar 
ently  finished  a  paragraph,  said,  without  looking  up,  — 

"  So,  you  want  to  try  your  hand  at  newspaper  work  ?  " 

I  assented,  stating  that  I  was  willing  to  perform  any  kind 
of  literary  labor  of  which  I  might  be  capable. 

"  You  have  never  done  anything  of  the  sort,  I  suppose. 
Have  you  ever  written  for  publication  ?  " 

«  Yes." 

"What?" 


212  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

The  few  poems  and  the  accepted  story  seemed  very  in 
significant  now,  —  but  they  were  all  I  had.  I  mentioned 
them. 

"  That  is  hardly  a  recommendation,"  he  said,  resuming 
his  writing  ;  "  rather  the  reverse.  We  want  a  plain  style, 
exact  adherence  to  facts,  and  above  all  —  quickness.  You 
may  have  these  qualities,  nevertheless.  Let  us  see." 

He  turned  over  a  pile  of  newspapers  at  his  right  hand, 
selected,  almost  at  random,  the  Baltimore  American,  and 
handed  it  to  me,  saying,  "  You  will  find  the  city-news  on 
the  third  page.  Look  over  it  and  tell  me  if  you  see  any 
thing  of  sufficient  importance  to  copy." 

"  Nothing,  unless  it  is  this  — '  Conflagration  at  Fell's 
Point,' "  I  answered,  after  rapidly  running  my  eye  up  and 
down  the  columns. 

"  Now  go  to  yonder  table  —  you  will  find  pen  and  paper 
there  —  and  condense  this  half-column  account  into  fifteen 
lines,  giving  all  the  material  facts." 

How  lucky  it  is,  I  thought,  as  I  prepared  to  obey,  that  I 
went  through  such  a  thorough  course  of  amplification  and 
condensation  at  the  Honeybrook  Academy  !  My  mind  in 
stantly  reverted  to  the  old  drill,  and  resumed  something  of 
its  mechanical  dexterity.  In  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  I 
had  performed  the  work,  Mr.  Clarendon,  in  the  mean  time, 
writing  steadily  and  silently  on  his  narrow  slips. 

"  It  is  done,  sir,"  I  said,  venturing  to  interrupt  him. 

"  Bring  it  here." 

I  handed  him  both  the  original  article  and  my  abbrevi 
ated  statement.  He  compared  them,  as  it  seemed  to  me, 
by  a  single  glance  of  the  eye.  Such  rapidity  of  mental  ac 
tion  was  little  short  of  the  miraculous. 

"  Fairly  done,  for  a  beginner,"  he  then  remarked.  "  I 
will  try  you,  Mr.  Godfrey.  This  will  be  the  kind  of  work 
I  shall  first  give  you.  You  will  make  blunders  and  omis 
sions,  until  you  are  better  broken  to  the  business.  Six 
dollars  a  week  is  all  you  are  worth  now ;  will  that  satisfy 
you?" 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  213 

Satisfy  ?  It  was  deliverance  !  It  was  a  branch  of  Pac- 
tolus,  bursting  at  my  feet,  to  bear  me  onward  to  all  golden 
possibilities  !  I  blundered  forth  both  my  assent  and  grati 
tude,  which  Mr.  Clarendon,  having  completed  his  article,  cut 
short  by  conducting  me  to  the  larger  room,  where  he  pre 
sented  me  to  one  of  the  gentlemen  whom  he  addressed  as 
Mr.  Severn,  saying,  "  Mr.  Godfrey  is  to  be  set  at  condens 
ing  the  miscellaneous.  He  will  come  here  at  ten  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning.  Have  an  eye  to  him  now  and  then." 

Mr.  Severn,  who  had  a  worn  and  haggard  look,  was  evi 
dently  glad  to  learn  that  I  was  to  relieve  him  of  some  of 
his  duties.  His  reception  was  mildly  cordial,  and  I  was  a 
little  surprised  that  he  betrayed  no  more  curiosity  to  know 
who  or  what  I  was. 

Overflowing  with  joy  at  my  unexpected  good  fortune,  I 
hastened  back  to  Mrs.  Very's  to  communicate  the  happy 
news  to  Swansford.  But  I  was  obliged  to  control  my  im 
patience  until  late  in  the  afternoon.  When  at  last  I  heard 
his  step  coming  up  the  stairs,  I  threw  open  my  door  and 
beckoned  him  in.  He,  too,  seemed  no  less  excited  than 
myself.  Flinging  his  hat  upon  my  bed,  he  cried  out, 
"  Godfrey  !  "  at  the  same  instant  that  I  cried  — 

"  Swansford !  such  news  !  hurrah  !  " 

"Hurrah!"  he  echoed,  but  his  face  fell.  "Why,  who 
told  you?" 

"  Who  told  me  ?  "  I  asked,  *in  surprise ;  "  why,  it  happened 
to  me ! " 

"  What  happened  to  you  ?  Good  God ! "  he  exclaimed  in 
sudden  alarm,  "  you  have  not  gone  and  sold  the  song  to 
somebody  else  ?  " 

In  the  tumult  of  my  thoughts,  I  had  forgotten  all  about 
the  song.  With  a  hearty  laugh  at  the  comical  expression 
on  Swansford's  face,  I  pushed  him  into  a  chair  and  trium 
phantly  told  him  my  story. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Godfrey,"  he  said,  giving  me  his 
hand.  "  This  is  a  lucky  day  for  both  of  us.  I  thought  I 


214  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

should  astonish  you,  but  there  's  not  much  chance  of  that, 
now,  and  I  'm  heartily  glad  of  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Let  me  tell  my  story.  When  I  left  you  at  the  Park 
Gate,  I  started  to  go  down  to  Kettlewell's,  but,  by  the  time 
I  had  reached  the  Astor  House,  it  occurred  to  me,  that,  as 
he  deals  in  just  such  sentimental  songs  as  we  have  bur 
lesqued,  I  should  have  but  a  small  chance  of  doing  any 
thing  with  him.  Besides,  I  dislike  the  man,  although  he 
published  my  compositions  when  no  one  else  would.  So  I 
turned  about  and  went  up  street  to  Mackintosh,  who  's  at 
least  a  gentlemanly  fellow.  I  produced  the  song,  first  told 
him  what  it  was,  saw  that  he  thought  the  idea  a  good  one, 
and  then  sang  it  as  well  as  I  could.  There  was  another 
gentleman  in  the  store,  and  they  both  laughed  like  the 
deuce  when  I  wound  up  with  the  grand  final  cadenza. 
Mackintosh,  I  think,  would  have  taken  the  song,  but  the 
other  gentleman  came  up,  clapped  his  hand  on  my  shoulder, 
and  said,  '  I  must  have  that.  I  '11  buy  it,  out  and  out. 
Joe  shall  sing  it  this  very  night ! '  I  did  n't  know  who  he 
was,  but  Mackintosh  then  introduced  him  to  me  as  Bridger, 
of  Bridger's  Minstrels.  *  What 's  your  price,  copyright  and 
all  ? '  he  asked.  Thinking  it  was  a  joke,  I  retorted  with, 
'  A  hundred  dollars.'  '  Fifty,'  said  he.  '  No,  a  hundred,'  I 
answered,  keeping  up  the  fun.  '  Well  —  split  the  differ 
ence.  Say  the  word,  and  here  's  your  money.'  '  Seeing 
it 's  you '  —  I  began  to  say,  but  before  I  had  finished  there 
were  seventy-five  dollars  in  my  hand,  —  here  they  are  !  — 
—  and  Bridger  was  writing  a  bill  of  sale,  including  the 
copyright.  Mackintosh  opened  his  eyes,  but  I  pretended 
to  take  the  matter  coolly,  though  I  hardly  knew  whether  I 
was  standing  on  my  head  or  heels.  But  what  a  shame  and 
humiliation  !  Seventy-five  dollars  for  a  burlesque  to  be 
sung  by  Ethiopian  Minstrels !  " 

"  There 's  neither  shame  nor  humiliation  about  it ! "  I 
protested.  "  It 's  grand  and  glorious !  Only  think,  Swans- 
ford,  —  ten  weeks'  board  each  for  an  hour's  work ! " 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  215 

"  /  think  of  years  of  work,  and  not  an  hour  of  apprecia 
tive  recognition,"  said  he,  relapsing  into  sudden  gloom. 

But  my  sunshine  was  too  powerful  for  his  shadow.  I 
insisted  on  crowning  this  dies  miraUlis  with  an  Olympian 
banquet  in  the  best  oyster-cellar  of  the  Bowery,  and  car 
ried  my  point.  We  had  broiled  oysters,  a  little  out  of  sea 
son,  and  a  bottle  of  champagne,  though  Swansford  would 
have  preferred  ale,  as  being  so  nluch  cheaper.  I  was  in  a 
splendid  mood,  and  again  carried  my  point. 

This  ravishing  dawn  of  prosperity  melted  my  soul,  and 
there,  in  the  little  stall,  scarcely  separated  from  roystering 
and  swearing  bullies  on  either  side,  I  whispered  to  Swans- 
ford  my  love  for  Amanda  and  my  dreams  of  the  future 
which  we  should  share. 

He  bent  down  his  head  and  said  nothing,  but  I  saw  a 
tear  drop  into  his  wine. 

We  rose  and  walked  silently  homewards,  arm  in  arm. 


216  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

WHICH  "CONDENSES  THE  MISCELLANEOUS"  OF  A  YEAR. 

THE  next  day  commenced  for  me  a  new  life  —  a  life  of 
responsible,  regulated  labor,  and  certain,  if  moderate  re 
ward.  It  was  not  difficult  to  resume  the  harness,  for  my 
temporary  freedom  had  not  been  sufficiently  enjoyed  to 
tempt  me  to  prolong  it.  My  life  already  possessed  a  seri 
ous  direction,  leading,  I  fondly  believed,  to  that  home  of 
my  own  creation  \vhich  my  poor  mother  had  foreseen  upon 
her  death-bed.  This  hope  was  stronger  at  that  time  than 
any  literary  aspirations.  Indeed,  I  would  have  sacrificed 
the  latter  without  much  regret,  provided  another  and  more 
speedy  path  to  wealth  and  distinction  had  presented  itself. 
But  my  mind  had  received  its  bent  from  my  cheaply  won 
triumphs  at  the  Honeybrook  Academy,  and  I  had  too  little, 
experience  of  life  to  know  how  easily  a  young  and  plastic 
nature  accommodates  itself  to  different  forms  of  training. 

I  took  my  appointed  desk  in  the  editorial  room  of  the 
Daily  Wonder,  and  commenced  my  allotted  labor  of  "  con 
densing  the  miscellaneous."  I  was  so  anxious  to  give  satis 
faction  that  no  paper  —  even  the  most  insignificant  country 
sheet  —  passed  through  my  hands  without  being  carefully 
inspected.  I  sat  at  my  desk  from  ten  to  twelve  hours  a 
day,  selecting,  condensing,  and  polishing  my  items,  until 
Smeaton,  the  foreman  of  the  composing-room,  —  the  man 
with  smutty  hands  and  paper  cap,  —  informed  me,  as  he 
took  my  slips,  "  You  do  pile  up  the  Miscellaneous  in  an 
awful  way ;  half  of  that  will  be  crowded  out  of  to-night's 
make-up." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  217 

Not  a  fire,  murder,  railroad  disaster,  daring  burglary, 
shocking  accident,  tragic  occurrence,  curious  phenomenon 
or  singular  freak  of  nature,  escaped  my  eyes  ;  and  I  was 
beginning  to  congratulate  myself  on  my  expertness,  when, 
on  the  third  day,  I  received  a  most  unexpected  humiliation. 
I  had  overlooked  the  result  of  an  election  to  fill  a  vacancy 
in  the  Fourth  Congressional  District  of  Tennessee,  —  a 
circumstance  which  my  colleagues  who  "  condensed  the 
miscellaneous  "  for  the  Marvel,  the  Monitor,  and  the  Avenger, 
had  all  duly  commemorated,  thus  distancing  the  Wonder 
for  that  day.  Mr.  Clarendon's  wrath  was  both  strong  and 
freely  expressed.  It  would  have  been  still  more  severe, 
Mr.  Severn  informed  me,  but  for  the  lucky  chance  that  the 
"  city  editor,"  in  reporting  a  fire  in  Broome  Street,  had  ob 
tained  both  the  amount  of  insurance  and  the  names  of  the 
companies,  which  were  not  mentioned  in  the  rival  dailies, 
and  thereby  partly  compensated  my  oversight.  I  found 
that  the  rivalry  extended  to  the  smallest  details  in  the  com 
position  of  a  paper,  and  was  felt  as  keenly  by  the  subordi 
nates  of  the  establishment  as  by  the  principals.  There  was 
an  eager  comparison  of  the  various  journals  every  morning, 
and  while  the  least  advantage  of  the  Wonder  in  point  of 
news  was  the  subject  of  general  rejoicing,  so  the  most  in 
significant  shortcoming  seemed  to  be  felt  by  each  as  a  per 
sonal  grievance.  I  very  soon  caught  the  infection,  and 
became  as  sensitive  a  partisan  as  the  rest. 

There  was  a  marked  change  in  Mr.  Jenks's  manner 
towards  me  when  he  discovered  my  riew  position.  My 
short  story  with  the  unmistakable  moral  was  accepted  with 
some  flattering  remarks,  to  the  effect  that  I  was  already 
improving  in  style,  and  he  thought  he  could  afford  to  pay 
me  ten  dollars  instead  of  five.  He  called  me  back  when  I 
was  leaving  his  office,  adding  in  a  careless  way,  "  Of  course 
you  know  Mr.  Withering,  the  literary  critic  of  the  Wonder. 
I  wish  you  would  just  call  his  attention  to  the  June  number 
of  '  The  Hesperian.'  Here  is  an  extra  copy  for  him." 


218  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

On  Saturday  afternoon  I  received  the  stipulated  six  dol 
lars,  which  I  felt  had  been  well  earned.  This  sum  was 
sufficient  to  pay  my  board  and  all  other  necessary  expenses, 
thus  making  me  independent  of  literature  and  its  scanty, 
uncertain  returns.  I  was  already  so  fortunate  as  to  possess 
an  occupation  and  a  taste  ;  the  narrow  bounds  of  my  life 
were  satisfactorily  filled.  I  not  only  felt  but  saw  that 
others  recognized  in  me  a  new  importance.  Even  Mr. 
Mortimer,  identifying  me  with  the  Wonder,  seemed  to  take 
it  for  granted  that  I  was  the  depository  of  much  secret 
intelligence,  in  matters  of  current  gossip,  politics,  or  finance. 
The  demand  for  my  opinion  on  these  matters  created  the 
supply,  and  it  was  astonishing  how  soon  my  words,  until 
now  shy,  hesitating,  and  painfully  self-distrustful,  became 
assured  and  oracular.  Rand's  opinion,  as  to  the  necessity 
of  certain  metals,  either  in  face  or  pocket,  seemed  about  to 
be  justified. 

When  I  returned  home  that  evening,  a  new  delight 
awaited  me.  Mrs.  Very  handed  me  a  letter,  addressed  to 
"Mr.  John  Godfrey,"  in  a  coarse,  awkward  hand,  which 
puzzled  me  a  little  until  I  noticed  the  post-mark,  "  Cardiff," 
in  one  corner.  Then  I  rushed  up  to  my  room,  locked  the 
door,  and  tore  open  the  envelope  with  trembling  haste.  A 
delicate  enclosure,  of  silky  pink  paper,  and  redolent  of 
patchouly,  dropped  out ;  but  I  resolutely  inspected  the 
rough  husk  before  feasting  my  heart  on  the  honeyed  kernel. 
This  was  Dan's  letter  :  — 

"  SUNDAY,  May  the  23d. 

"  Respected  Friend,  I  reed,  your  favor  in  which  you  in 
formed  me  that  you  was  getting  on  so  well  and  gave  the 
other  as  you  directed.  Thought  it  best  to  wait  for  the 
other's  answer,  though  there  is  no  particular  news.  Sep 
Bratton  goes  to  The  Buck  every  day,  and  there  's  high 
goings  on  between  him  and  the  squire.  Your  friend  Mr. 
Rand  was  there  again.  People  say  the  squire  is  speculating 
about  Pottsville,  and  will  cut  up  pretty  fat  some  day,  which 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  219 

is  no  business  of  mine,  but  thought  you  might  like  to  hear. 
We  are  all  well,  and  mother  and  Sue  says  remember  me  to 
him.  I  guess  Ben  and  her  is  satisfied  with  one  another, 
but  you  need  not  say  I  told  you.  There  is  a  mistress  at 
the  school  this  summer,  a  right  smart  young  woman,  her 
name  is  Lavina  Wilkins.  And  hoping  these  few  lines  will 
find  you  enjoying  good  health,  I  remain, 

"  Yours,  respectfully, 

"DANIEL  YULE." 

This  letter  was  almost  like  the  touch  of  Dan's  broad, 
honest  hand ;  it  brought  a  breeze  from  the  valley  with  it 
and  a  burst  of  sunshine,  in  which  I  beheld  the  pond,  the 
shaded  foot-path,  and  the  lonely  bank  beside  the  old  hem 
lock-tree.  With  a  sigh  of  yearning  tenderness  I  stretched 
forth  my  empty  arms  and  murmured,  "  Dear  Amanda ! " 
Then  I  kissed  the  fragrant  pink  of  the  little  note,  and 
gloated  over  my  own  name,  traced  in  fine  Italian  hand. 
The  words  looked  so  smooth,  so  demure,  so  gently  calm  — 
in  short,  so  like  herself!  My  heart  thrilled  with  joy  as  I 
deciphered,  on  the  fairy  seal  of  sky-blue  wax,  scarcely 
larger  than  a  three-cent  piece,  the  words  " toujours  fidele" 
After  this,  I  had  no  more  power  of  abstinence.  The  com 
ing  joy  must  be  tasted. 

Her  letter  was  very  short  in  comparison  with  mine,  —  so 
short,  indeed,  that  after  three  readings  I  knew  it  by  heart, 
and  could  repeat  it  to  myself  as  I  walked  down  Chatham 
Street.  I  can  still  recall  it,  word  by  word. 

"  Dear  John,"  (there  were  volumes  of  withheld  confession 
for  me  in  that  one  adjective)  :  — 

"  How  pleased  I  was  to  get  your  beautiful  letter  !  Ma 
was  not  at  home,  so  I  was  alone  and  could  read  it  undis 
turbed,  fancying  you  were  near  me.  Do  you  really  think 
of  me  so  much  ?  Do  I  always  seem  present  to  you  ?  I 
can  scarcely  believe  it  yet,  although  you  say  it,  and  I  feel 
in  my  heart  that  you  are  true.  I  am  not  afraid  that  when 


220  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

you  get  to  be  a  great  writer,  you  will  forget  me  or  any  of  us. 
Oh,  it  is  a  bliss  to  find  one  upon  whom  we  can  rely  !  You 
may  imagine  how  much  I  have  thought  about  you  since 
you  left.  It  was  so  sudden,  and  I  was  so  bewildered  by  what 
you  said,  and  I  cannot  remember  what  /  said  or  did.  But 
I  do  not  forget  any  of  your  words.  They  cannot  be  unsaid, 
can  they  ?  Tell  me  truly,  now,  do  you  wish  it  could  be  so  ? 

—  but  no,  I  will  not  ask  the  question.    We  were  at  Carters- 
town  last  Sunday,  and  Mr.  Perego  preached  from  the  text 

—  Love  is  strong  as  death,  Jealousy  cruel  as  the  grave.     I 
wished  you  could  only  have  heard  it !     How  some  people 
can  be  so  jealous  is  past  my  comprehension:   they  can't 
have  much  faith,  it  seems  to  me. 

"  Oh,  your  letter  was  so  beautiful !  so  poetic!  I  am  quite 
ashamed  to  send  you  my  prose  in  return.  I  have  not  your 
gift  of  expressing  myself,  and  you  must  imagine  all  that  I 
am  not  able  to  say.  Do  not  ask  too  much  of  me.  I  am 
afraid  you  do  not  know  all  my  deficiencies,  and  perhaps  I 
had  better  stop  now,  lest  I  might  disclose  them  to  your 
gaze.  Don't  you  think,  with  me,  that  speech  is  not  neces 
sary,  where  people  understand  each  other's  feelings  f  I 
could  be  silent  for  years,  if  fate  required  it,  not  but  what 
there  is  a  great  consolation  in  the  interchange  of  thoughts. 
Your  description  of  your  life  in  New  York  was  very  inter 
esting,  and  I  want  to  hear  more  of  it ;  but  now  I  must  say 
good-bye,  for  fear  of  interruption.  I  cannot  repeat,  even 
with  the  pen,  your  words  at  the  close  of  your  letter,  but  you 
won't  care  about  it  now,  will  you  ?  A.  B. 

"  P.  S.  —  Oh,  do  not  write  very  often  —  not  more  than 
once  in  two  or  three  months.  It  would  be  dreadful  if  Pa 
or  Ma  or  Sep  should  find  it  out.  They  all  think  I  am  a 
child  with  no  mind  of  my  own.  And  I  cannot  look  Dan 
Yule  in  the  face :  he  must  suspect  something,  and  what  if 
he  should  get  drunk  and  tell !  Not  that  he  drinks,  but  we 
can't  tell  what  may  happen,  and  I  am  so  frightened  for  fear 
our  poor,  harmless  letters  should  fall  into  somebody's  hands. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  221 

"  N.  B.  —  I  have  received  the  Hesperian  through  the 
Post-office.  Sep  brought  it,  but  he  did  not  know  your 
hand.  How  lucky !  Leonora's  Dream  is  lovely  !  " 

How  easily  I  read,  in  those  artless,  timid  sentences,  her 
shy,  pure,  yet  steadfastly  faithful  maiden  heart !  Even  my 
own  tumultuous  utterances  of  passion  lost  their  eloquence, 
beside  the  soft  serenity  of  her  voice.  The  tender  playful 
ness  with  which  she  avoided  repeating  the  fond  epithets  I 
had  used,  quite  charmed  me.  Love  had  donned  a  witch 
ing,  coquettish  mask,  well  knowing  that  his  own  immortal 
eyes  shone  through  it.  I  was  completely  happy,  but  an 
instinct  told  me  not  to  intrude  my  joy  on  Swansford's  mys 
terious  sorrow :  so,  that  night,  I  kept  my  room  and  wrote 
another  poem. 

My  life  now  assumed  a  somewhat  monotonous  sameness. 
For  months  I  strictly  performed  my  appointed  duties,  in 
creasing  my  circle  of  acquaintances  but  slightly,  and  acquir 
ing  no  experiences  which  seem  worthy  of  being  recorded. 
My  nature,  apparently,  was  resting  from  the  excitements  of 
the  previous  year,  and  its  rapid,  partly  enforced  develop 
ment  was  followed  by  a  long  period  of  repose.  Little  by 
little,  however,  I  was  gaining  in  knowledge  of  life,  in  self- 
reliance,  and  in  power  of  discriminating  between  the  true 
and  the  false,  in  men  and  things  ;  but  in  all  these  particu 
lars  I  suspect  I  was  still  behind  most  young  men  of  my 
own  age.  Certainly  I  saw  not  yet  the  out-cropping  of  the 
grosser  elements  of  human  nature  which  a  great  city  brings 
to  light,  yet  I  began  to  feel  a  dim  conviction  that  there  was 
something,  that  my  own  innocence  and  ignorance  were 
exceptional,  and  that,  whether  in  the  way  of  observation 
or  experience,  I  had  much  to  learn. 

About  the  beginning  of  winter,  Mr.  Clarendon,  after 
informing  me  that  he  considered  me  tolerably  well  broken 
to  the  harness,  and  expressing  his  satisfaction  with  my 
punctual,  steady  habits  of  work,  raised  my  salary  to  ten 


222  JOHN  GODFKEY'S  FORTUNES. 

dollars  a  week.  I  was  by  this  time  able  to  do  "  the  Miscel 
laneous  "  much  more  rapidly,  and  was  frequently  called 
upon,  in  addition,  to  write  short  items  about  the  wreather, 
the  appearance  of  the  city  on  particular  occasions,  or  such 
other  indefinite  subjects  as  might  be  safely  intrusted  to  a 
new  hand.  Thus  I  became  more  and  more,  in  my  own 
estimation,  an  integral  part  of  the  Daily  Wonder,  but  for 
tunately  did  not  feel  the  loss  of  the  individuality  which  it 
absorbed. 

The  increase  of  my  salary,  added  to  an  occasional  windfall 
from  "  The  Hesperian,"  enabled  me  now  to  set  about  grat 
ifying  a  secret  desire  which  I  had  long  cherished.  This 
was  nothing  less  than  to  publish  a  volume.  Swansford,  who 
had  great  faith  in  my  abilities,  advised  me  to  this  step ;  but 
no  persuasion  was  necessary  to  convince  me  of  its  expedi 
ency.  As  the  author  of  a  popular  book,  I  believed  that 
Squire  Bratton  would  bow  his  haughty  crest  before  me, 
and  Uncle  Amos  approach  me  with  a  penitent  confession 
of  misdemeanor.  Instead  of  running  at  the  stirrup,  as  I 
had  been  doing,  it  was  a  bold  leap  into  the  saddle.  Raised 
thus,  a  head  and  shoulders  above  the  "  heartless,  unheeding 
crowd,"  I  should  spatter  instead  of  being  spattered.  It  was 
an  enticing  idea,  and  I  had  scarcely  patience  to  wait  for  its 
fulfilment. 

In  another  respect,  however,  Swansford  was  perverse, 
and  his  perverseness  greatly  annoyed  me.  Our  "  Fashion 
able  Song  "  proved  to  be  very  popular.  It  was  published 
as  the  composition  of  Bridger  (of  Bridger's  Minstrels),  and 
he,  of  course,  received  all  the  fame.  It  was  even  reported 
in  the  papers  that  his  commission  on  the  sale,  he  being 
owner  of  the  copyright,  amounted  to  more  than  a  thousand 
dollars.  I  was  furious  when  I  read  this  to  Swansford,  but 
he  only  smiled,  in  his  melancholy  way,  as  he  remarked,  — 

"  He  is  welcome  to  the  money,  and  his  success  with  that 
stuff  reconciles  me  to  my  share  of  the  pay.  He  would 
give  a  hundred  dollars  for  another,  Mackintosh  tells  me." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  223 

"  Don't  do  it !  "  I  cried,  eagerly.  "A  hundred  dollars 
and  half  the  gains  of  the  copyright  will  be  little  enough. 
Think  what  we  have  lost  on  the  first  one  ! " 

"  You  forget,  Godfrey,  how  glad  we  were  to  get  it.  Why, 
we  should  have  been  satisfied  with  one  tenth  of  the  sum. 
But  I  wrote  the  thing  in  a  freak  of  disgust,  which  I  have 
outlived,  thank  God  !  Why  should  I  allow  such  themes  to 
enter  my  brain  at  all  ?  The  time  is  too  short,  the  mission 
too  solemn,  for  this  profane  trifling." 

"  But,  Swansford,"  I  cried,  "  you  surely  don't  mean  that 
you  will  not  write  another,  if  I  furnish  the  words  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  gravely,  and  lowering  his  voice  almost  to 
a  whisper  ;  "  I  am  writing  a  symphony.  It  will  be  my  first 
effort  at  a  work  which  might  be  worthy  to  offer  to  those 
two  Masters  yonder,  if  they  were  alive.  The  first  move 
ment  is  finished  —  wait  —  sit  down  —  don't  interrupt  me  !  " 

fte  took  his  seat  at  the  piano,  drew  up  his  coat-sleeves, 
turned  back  his  wristbands,  and  commenced  playing.  It 
was  a  sad,  monotonous  theme,  based,  for  the  most  part,  on 
low,  rumbling  chords,  which  reminded  me,  more  than  any 
thing  else,  of  distant  thunder  on  the  horizon  of  a  summer 
night.  A  certain  phrase,  running  into  the  higher  notes, 
and  thence  descending  by  broad,  lingering  intervals,  was 
several  times  repeated.  The  general  effect  of  the  compo 
sition  was  weird  and  mystic ;  I  felt  that  I  did  not  fully  com 
prehend  its  meaning. 

Swansford  at  last  ceased  and  turned  towards  me  with 
excited  eyes.  "  There ! "  he  cried ;  "  I  have  carried  it  so 
far,  but  beyond  that  there  is  a  confusion  which  I  cannot  yet 
unravel.  This  is  only  the  presentiment  of  the  struggle ; 
its  reality  is  to  come.  I  feel  what  it  should  be,  but  when 
my  mind  tries  to  grasp  it,  I  encounter  cloud  instead  of  form. 
Oh,  if  I  were  sure  of  reaching  it  at  last,  I  would  gladly 
give  sweat,  blood,  and  agony !  " 

He  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  bent  fonvard 
over  the  piano.  I  recognized  and  envied  in  him  the  pres 
ence  of  a  consuming  artistic  passion.  Involuntarily,  I  asked 


224  JOHN    GODFREY'S     FORTUNES. 

myself  whether  my  love  of  literature  possessed  me  with  the 
same  intensity,  and  was  obliged  to  confess  that  it  did  not. 
I  was  a  lover,  not  a  worshipper.  I  was  not  strong  enough 
to  spurn  an  avenue  of  success,  though  it  did  not  point  to 
the  highest  goal.  But  I  was  at  least  capable  of  fitting  rev 
erence  for  Swansford's  loftier  and  more  delicately  consti 
tuted  nature,  and  made  no  further  reference,  then,  to  the 
oifer  he  had  received. 

When  I  returned  to  the  subject,  a  few  days  afterwards,  I 
found  him  as  stubborn  as  ever.  My  share  of  the  money 
which  we  might  earn  so  easily  would  have  enabled  me  at 
once  to  publish  my  volume  ;  and  as  I  was  conscious  of  no 
special  degradation  in  the  first  instance,  so  I  could  not  for 
the  life  of  me  feel  that  a  repetition  of  the  joke  would  be  a 
flagrant  offence  against  either  his  art  or  mine.  My  repre 
sentations  to  this  effect  were  useless.  He  was  completely 
absorbed  in  his  symphony,  and  filled  with  a  rapt,  devotional 
spirit,  which,  by  contrast  with  my  position,  made  me  seem 
a  tempter,  assailing  him  with  evil  suggestions.  I  was  silent, 
and  Bridger  did  not  get  his  second  song. 

During  the  winter  my  circle  of  experience  was  consider 
ably  enlarged.  A  small  portion  of  the  "  complimentary  " 
privileges  of  the  Wonder  fell  to  my  share,  and  I  made  ac 
quaintance  with  lectures,  concerts,  the  drama,  and  the  op 
era.  Swansford  sometimes  accompanied  me  to  the  latter, 
and  from  him  I  learned  the  character  and  significance  of 
works  which  had  else  impressed  me  with  a  vague,  voluptu 
ous,  unintelligent  delight.  In  my  leisure  hours  I  undertook 
the  task  of  preparing  my  poems  for  publication.  I  had  too 
great  a  liking  for  my  own  progeny  to  reject  any  of  them, 
but,  even  then,  there  were  not  more  than  enough  to  form  a 
thin  volume  of  a  hundred  and  twenty  pages.  The  choice 
of  a  title  puzzled  me  exceedingly.  I  hesitated  for  a  long 
time  between  "  The  Wind-Harp "  and  "JEolian  Harmo 
nies."  until  Swansford  informed  me  that  both  were  equally 
suggestive  of  monotonous  effect.  Then  I  went  to  the  op 
posite  extreme  of  simplicity,  and  adopted  "  First  Poems,  by 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  225 

John  Godfrey,"  —  which  the  publisher,  who  was  to  lend  me 
his  imprint  (I  paying  all  the  expenses  of  printing  and  bind 
ing  and  receiving  half  the  proceeds  of  the  sales),  rejected 
as  fatal  to  success.  It  would  never  do,  he  said,  to  announce 
"First  Poems  "  ;  nobody  would  buy  them  ;  I  must  presup 
pose  that  the  public  was  familiar  with  my  productions ; 
many  persons  bought,  simply  to  show  that  they  kept  up 
with  the  current  literature,  and  the  word  "  First "  would 
tell  them  the  whole  story.  Why  not  say  "  Leonora's 
Dream,"  (he  saw  that  was  the  name  of  the  leading  poem,) 
"  and  Other  Poems  "  ?  And  so  it  was  settled. 

During  all  this  time  I  had  tried  to  gratify  Amanda's  wish 
with  regard  to  the  correspondence.  It  was  hard,  very  hard, 
to  endure  three  months'  silence,  but  as  she  begged  it  for 
her  sake,  I  tried  to  quiet  my  impatient  heart  and  console 
myself  with  the  knowledge  of  our  mutual  constancy.  Her 
letters  were  short,  but  precious  beyond  computation.  Her 
expressions  were  none  the  less  sweet  that  they  were  con 
stantly  repeated;  did  not  I,  also,  repeat  over  and  over, 
without  the  possibility  of  exhausting  their  emphasis,  my 
own  protestations  of  unalterable  love  ?  I  communicated 
my  good  fortune,  with  sure  predictions  of  the  bright  future 
it  heralded,  but  kept  back,  as  a  delicious  surprise,  the  se 
cret  of  my  intended  publication,  and  another  plan  which 
was  to  follow  it.  As  it  was  now  evident  that  the  book 
could  not  be  given  to  the  world  before  May,  and  my 
twenty-first  birthday  occurred  in  June,  I  determined  to 
steal  a  few  days  for  a  visit  and  present  myself  and  my  fame 
at  the  same  time.  I  should  come  into  possession  of  my 
legacy,  and  it  would  therefore  be  necessary  to  make  a  jour 
ney  to  Reading. 

How  my  dreams  expanded  and  blossomed  in  the  breath 
of  the  opening  spring  !      Love,  Manhood,  and  Money,  — 
though  the  last  was  less  than  it  had  once  seemed  to  rne,  — • 
how  boundless  was  the  first  and  how  joyous  the  second ! 
15 


226  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

IN    WHICH    I   AGAIN   BEHOLD    AMANDA. 

TOWARDS  the  end  of  May  the  important  book  appeared. 
I  am  sure  that  no  immortal  work  was  ever  watched,  through 
its  different  processes  of  incarnation,  with  such  tender 
solicitude.  I  lingered  over  the  first  proofs,  the  revised 
proofs,  and  the  printed  and  folded  sheets,  with  a  proud, 
luxurious  interest,  and  the  final  consummation  —  the  little 
volume,  bound  and  lettered  —  was  so  precious  that  I  could 
have  kissed  the  leaves  one  by  one.  It  seemed  incredible 
that  the  "  John  Godfrey  "  on  the  title-page  really  meant 
myself!  A  book  for  me  had  hitherto  possessed  a  sublime, 
mystical  individuality  of  its  own,  and  this,  which  had  grown 
beneath  my  hand,  by  stages  of  manufacture  as  distinctly 
material  as  those  which  go  to  the  formation  of  a  shoe  or  a 
stove,  was  now  to  be  classed  among  those  silent,  eloquent 
personalities !  It  might  be  placed  side  by  side  with  "  Para 
dise  Lost "  or  "  Childe  Harold,"  on  book-shelves  ;  who  could 
tell  whither  chance  or  fortune  might  not  carry  it,  or  what 
young  and  burning  lips  it  might  not  help  unseal  ? 

A  year  previous,  I  should  have  been  ready  to  expect  the 
event  announced  by  portents,  such  as  precede  the  incarna 
tion  of  a  prophet,  —  murmurs  in  the  air,  —  restless  move 
ments  of  the  sea,  —  strange  moods  of  expectancy  in  men. 
But  all  my  boyish  pyrotechnics  of  fancy  had  already  dwin 
dled  down  to  a  modest  tallow-candle,  and  I  had,  now  and 
then,  my  moments  of  severe  doubt.  My  book,  I  now  knew, 
was  a  venture,  but  whether  strikingly  and  immediately  suc 
cessful,  or  the  reverse,  it  would  at  least  serve  a  purpose  by 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.         227 

bringing  my  name  before  the  reading  public,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  dearer  service  which  I  confidently  awaited  from  its 
publication. 

Copies  were  sent  to  all  the  principal  newspapers  and 
periodicals  of  Boston,  New  York,  and  Philadelphia,  and  to 
all  prominent  authors,  inscribed  on  the  fly-leaf:  "With  the 
respects  of  John  Godfrey."  My  position  in  the  Wonder 
office  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  seeing  whatever  criticisms 
it  might  call  forth,  and  from  the  day  of  publication  I  looked 
at  the  column  of  *'  Book  Notices,"  before  searching  among 
the  local  news  for  condensable  items.  For  nearly  a  week 
I  saw  nothing,  and  was  nigh  unto  despair ;  then  came  a 
few  scattering  notices,  then  dozens  of  them  all  together. 
They  were  mostly  brief,  but  very  pleasant.  I  was  accredited 
with  "  tender  sentiment,"  "  sweetness  of  versification,"  and 
"  much  promise."  The  result  of  these  judgments  not  only 
satisfied,  but  elated  me.  A  little  poem,  entitled  "  The  Win 
ter  Wind,"  which  I  esteemed  much  less  than  the  longer  and 
more  ambitious  productions,  was  extensively  copied.  In  the 
words  of  a  western  editor,  it  was  "  worthy  of  the  pen  of 
Amelia  B.  Welby."  The  faults  of  the  volume  were  indi 
cated  in  the  same  indefinite  way  as  its  merits  ;  —  they  were 
"  want  of  maturity,"  "  occasional  violation  of  metre,"  or  "  re 
dundancy  of  images,  attributable  to  youth."  Thus,  although 
very  few  copies  of  the  book  were  demanded  of  the  pub 
lisher,  I  considered  it  a  flattering  success. 

All  these  notices  I  cut  out  and  carefully  preserved  in  a 
separate  pocket  of  my  portfolio.  I  have  them  still.  The 
other  day,  as  I  took  them  out  and  read  them  over  with  an 
objective  scrutiny  in  which  no  shadow  of  my  former  interest 
remained,  I  was  struck  with  the  vague,  mechanical  stamp 
by  which  they  are  all  characterized.  I  sought  in  vain 
for  a  single  line  which  showed  the  discrimination  of  an  en 
lightened  critic.  The  fact  is,  we  had  no  criticism,  worthy 
of  the  name,  at  that  time.  Our  literature  was  tenderly 
petted,  and  its  diffuse,  superficial  sentiment  was  perhaps 


228  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

even  more  admired  than  its  first  attempts  at  a  profounder 
study  of  its  own  appropriate  themes  and  a  noble  assertion 
of  its  autonomy.  That  brief  interregnum  in  England,  during 
which  such  writers  as  Moir,  B.  Simmons,  T.  K.  Hervey,  and 
Alaric  A.  Watts  enjoyed  a  delusive  popularity,  had  its 
counterpart  on  our  side  of  the  Atlantic.  All  our  gentle, 
languishing  echoes  found  spell-bound  listeners,  whom  no 
one  —  with,  perhaps,  the  single  exception  of  Poe  —  had 
the  will  to  disenchant.  Hillhouse  and  Dawes,  Grenville 
Mellen  and  Brainard  still  sat  high  on  Parnassus,  and 
Griswold  astonished  us  by  disinterring  a  whole  Pantheon 
of  forgotten  worthies. 

For  my  own  part,  I  am  grateful  that  it  was  so.  I  was 
warmed  and  cheered  by  generous  words  of  welcome,  of 
which  I  only  felt  the  sincerity,  not  the  critical  nullity.  My 
life  was  brightened  and  made  hopeful  at  a  time  when  — 
but  I  will  not  anticipate  my  story.  The  reader  will  learn, 
before  I  close,  how  far  my  maturer  powers  justified  my 
early  ambition,  and  he  will  acquit  me  of  selfishness  when 
I  express  the  hope  that  all  brambles  may  be  put  away  from 
before  the  feet  of  others,  as  they  were  put  away  from  mine. 
Whether  or  not  I  deserve  the  fame  I  then  coveted,  I  am 
still  grateful  for  the  considerate  kindness  which  did  not 
venture  to  disturb  a  single  illusion.  What  if  those  poems 
were  but  bubbles  thrown  up  by  the  first  warm  fermentation 
of  youth  ?  For  me  they  displayed,  none  the  less,  their 
fragments  of  rainbow  color,  and  I  do  not  see  why  I  should 
not  rejoice  in  them  while  they  lasted.  Why,  also,  should 
any  one  say  to  me,  "  These  are  air  and  froth,  not  the  im 
perishable  opals  you  imagine  ?  "  No  ;  let  rather  me,  and 
all  such  as  brighten  their  lives  with  similar  dreams,  be 
deceived ! 

I  had  worked  steadily  and  faithfully  for  a  year,  at  my  desk 
in  the  Wonder  office,  and  Mr.  Clarendon  did  not  refuse  my 
petition  for  a  week's  holiday.  Severn  agreed  to  perform  my 
duties,  in  addition  to  his  own,  during  my  absence,  with  the 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  229 

understanding  that  I  should  return  the  service,  later  in  the 
summer.  To  Swansford  I  confided  so  much  of  my  intention 
as  regarded  the  business  with  my  uncle,  reserving  the  rest 
until  my  return,  for  I  was  still  uncertain  how  Squire  Bratton 
would  receive  the  knowledge  of  my  attachment  to  Amanda. 
The  dear  fellow  sympathized  heartily  with  my  improving 
prospects.  He  believed  in  the  promise  of  my  volume,  be 
cause  it  was  better  than  he  could  have  done,  and  his  pre 
dictions  of  my  success  in  literature  were  even  more  enthu 
siastic  than  my  own  secret  hopes.  He  was  a  faithful  friend ; 
would  that  my  conscience  allowed  me  to  say  the  same  of 
myself! 

My  last  letter  from  Amanda  had  been  received  in  March. 
It  was  brief  and  hurried,  and  at  any  other  time  would  have 
failed  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  my  heart.  But  I  was  al 
ready  deep  in  the  ecstasy  of  my  "  first  proofs,"  and  looking 
forward  to  the  double  surprise  I  was  hoarding  up  for  her. 
"  John,"  she  wrote,  "  do  not  be  angry  at  my  short  letter,  to 
day,  for  indeed  I  am  dreadfully  afraid  Sep,  or  Dan,  or  some 
body  suspects  something.  Sep  asked  me  the  other  day 
whether  I  had  heard  from  you.  I  thought  I  should  sink 
into  the  ground,  but  I  had  to  look  him  in  the  face  and  tell 
a  fib.  I  know  it  was  n't  right,  and  you  would  not  like  me 
to  do  it,  but  there  were  Pa  and  Ma  in  the  room.  I  am  well, 
only  so  nervous,  you  cannot  think.  Dan  looks  at  me  so  queer, 
every  time  we  meet.  I  am  not  sure  that  it  is  right  for  us 
to  correspond  in  this  underhanded  way,  but  you  know  it  was 
your  proposition.  I  hope  you  won't  take  it  hard  that  I 
should  say  so,  but  indeed  I  wish  there  was  some  other  way 
in  which  we  could  exchange  our  thoughts.  Mr.  Perego  and 
his  wife  are  here  to  tea,  and  I  have  only  five  minutes  to 
myself.  We  see  a  good  deal  of  company  now,  and  it  takes 
up  all  my  time,  nearly.  I  sometimes  wish  I  was  my  own 
mistress,  but  I  suppose  such  thoughts  are  wrong.  At  any 
rate,  I  am  patient,  and  you  can  be  a  little  so,  too,  —  can't 
you?  A.  B." 


230  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  did  not  much  wonder  that  Amanda  should  be  somewhat 
uneasy  lest  our  correspondence  —  the  manner  of  which,  to 
her  frank,  truthful  nature,  involved  a  certain  amount  of  de 
ception  —  should  be  discovered.  I  felt  a  slight  twinge  of 
conscience  on  perceiving  that  I  was  responsible  for  her  dis 
quiet,  and  confessed  that  her  faith  in  me,  as  measured  by 
her  patience,  must  exceed  mine  in  her.  My  love,  certainly, 
did  not  need  the  nourishment  of  letters  ;  but  silence  was  a 
pain,  and  I  was  much  better  constituted  to  enjoy  than  to 
endure.  My  answer  \vas  long  and  consolatory  in  its  tone. 
I  admitted  my  impatience,  hinting,  however,  that  I  hoped 
the  cause  of  it  would  soon  terminate ;  that  I  fully  appre 
ciated  her  position,  so  much  more  delicate  and  difficult  than 
mine,  and  would  release  her  from  it  as  soon  as  the  improve 
ment  in  my  fortunes  would  allow.  Meanwhile,  I  said,  she 
should  only  write  when  she  felt  assured  that  she  ran  no  risk 
in  so  doing.  It  was  no  great  magnanimity  in  me  to  grant 
this,  under  the  circumstances,  yet  I  involuntarily  let  it  appear 
that  I  was  making  a  sacrifice  for  her  sake.  She  could  not 
help  feeling,  I  reasoned,  that  the  balance  of  patience  was 
now  restored  between  us. 

At  last  the  happy  morning  of  my  first  holiday  dawned. 
I  was  fully  prepared  for  the  journey,  in  order  to  take  the 
ten  o'clock  train  for  Trenton.  A  small  and  elegant  travel 
ling  valise,  packed  the  night  before,  stood  on  the  top  of  my 
honest  old  trunk,  and  its  shining  leather  winked  at  me,  with 
an  expression  of  eagerness  for  its  mission.  Among  the 
contents,  I  need  not  say,  were  several  copies  of  "  Leonora's 
Dream,  and  Other  Poems,"  one  of  them  bound  in  green 
morocco,  with  gilt  edges.  After  I  had  arrayed  myself  in  a 
new  travelling-suit  of  light-brown,  and  carefully  adjusted 
the  bow  of  my  cinnamon-colored  cravat,  I  took  a  good  look 
at  my  face  in  the  little  mirror,  and  commended  what  I  saw. 
I  can  still  remember,  as  if  it  were  somebody  else's  face,  the 
dark,  earnest,  innocent  eyes,  filled  with  such  a  joyous  light ; 
the  low  brow  and  thick,  wavy  locks  of  hair ;  the  smooth 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  231 

cheeks,  already  pale  from  my  confined  life,  and  the  thin, 
sensitive  lips,  shaded  by  a  silky  moustache,  which  would  be 
red,  no  matter  how  my  hair  had  darkened.  My  features 
were  not  regular,  and  I  never  thought  of  making  any  claim 
to  be  called  handsome  ;  but  I  was  vain  enough  to  imagine 
that  there  was  something  "  interesting  "  in  my  face,  and 
that  I  would  not  disappoint  the  expectations  of  my  Amanda. 
My  country  awkwardness,  at  least,  had  disappeared,  and  the 
self-possessed  air  which  had  come  in  its  stead  enabled  me 
to  use,  instead  of  obscure,  my  few  physical  advantages. 

My  ride  to  Trenton  was  shortened  by  the  active,  excited 
imagination,  which  ran  in  advance  and  prefigured,  in  a 
thousand  ways,  the  coming  meeting.  When  I  arrived  I 
found  that  I  was  too  late  for  the  afternoon  stage,  and,  on 
account  of  the  distance  across  the  country  to  Cardiff,  would 
be  obliged  to  wait  until  morning.  This  was  a  sore  inter 
ruption,  but  it  came  to  end,  and  sunrise  saw  me  once 
more  looking  on  the  green  Pennsylvanian  hills  from  the 
driver's  box.  I  enjoyed  the  fresh  summer  glory  of  the 
country  as  never  before  ;  success  was  behind  me  and  love 
beckoned  me  on.  "What  wonder  if  the  meadow-larks  piped 
more  sweetly  than  ever  the  nightingale  in  Cephissian  thick 
ets,  or  if  the  blue  and  green  of  sky  and  earth  held  each 
other  in  a  lovelier  harmony  than  that  of  which  Herbert 
sang  ?  As  we  drove  onward,  the  two  hills  which  rise  to 
the  eastward  of  Cardiff  lifted  their  round,  leafy  tops,  afar 
off,  over  the  rim  of  the  horizon.  I  thought  them  the  gates 
of  Paradise. 

It  was  noon  when  the  stage  drew  up  beside  the  white 
porch  of  the  well-known  tavern,  and  the  driver  announced 
to  the  four  inside  passengers,  "  Fifteen  minutes  for  din 
ner!"  His  statement  was  noisily  verified  by  a  big  bell, 
which  issued  from  the  central  door,  followed  by  the  arm 
and  then  the  body  of  the  stout  landlord,  who  looked  at 
me  doubtfully  as  I  entered,  but  did  not  seem  to  recog 
nize  me.  I  was  rather  glad  of  this,  as  it  proved  that  I  had 


232  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

changed  considerably  in  my  appearance,  and,  I  hoped,  for 
the  better.  I  was  too  hungry  to  slight  the  announcement 
of  dinner,  especially  as  I  had  determined  on  walking  over 
to  Upper  Samaria,  as  on  that  well-remembered  autumn 
day,  a  year  and  a  half  before. 

Taking  the  green  morocco  book  from  my  valise,  which  I 
left  in  the  landlord's  charge,  I  set  forth  on  my  journey,  in 
a  tumult  of  delicious  feelings.  I  know  that  I  was  frequently 
obliged  to  pause  when  my  breath  came  short  with  the  rapid 
beating  of  my  heart.  I  anticipated  and  measured  off  the 
distance,  and  computed  the  time,  saying  to  myself,  "  In  an 
hour  more  —  in  fifty  minutes  —  in  three-quarters  "  — 

When  I  reached  the  top  of  the  second  hill  from  Cardiff, 
and  looked  across  the  hollow  to  the  next  rise,  where  the 
road  skirts  Hannaford's  Woods,  I  saw  a  neat  open  wagon 
coming  up  towards  me.  The  team  had  a  familiar  air,  and 
I  stopped  and  inspected  it  with  some  curiosity.  I  scarcely 
knew  whether  to  be  pleased  or  alarmed  when  I  recognized 
Squire  Bratton  and  his  wife.  My  first  impulse,  I  fancy,  was 
to  leap  over  the  fence  and  take  a  wide  circuit  across  the 
fields  to  avoid  them ;  but  then  I  reflected  that  they  were 
probably  going  to  Cardiff,  leaving  the  coast  clear  for  my 
interview  with  Amanda.  It  would  be  my  duty  to  see  them 
when  they  returned,  and  my  reception  then  could  not  be 
prejudiced  by  greeting  them  now.  I  therefore  resumed 
my  walk,  but  more  slowly,  down  the  hill. 

As  the  wagon  approached,  I  could  see  that  Squire  Brat- 
ton  looked  more  than  usually  spruce  and  important.  His 
hat  was  set  well  back  upon  his  head,  and  the  ends  of  his 
upright  shirt-collar  made  two  sharp  white  triangles  upon 
the  broad  red  plain  of  his  cheeks.  He  snapped  his  whip 
lash  continually  in  the  air,  and  the  sound  prevented  me 
from  hearing  the  remarks  which,  from  the  motion  of  his 
head  and  the  movement  of  his  mouth,  he  was  evidently 
making  to  his  wife.  He  did  not  seem  to  recognize  me  until 
we  were  but  a  few  paces  apart. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.         233 

"  Hallo  !  Why,  here  's  Godfrey !  "  he  exclaimed,  check 
ing  the  horses. 

I  approached  the  wheel,  and  shook  hands  with  both. 

"  Should  hardly  ha'  known  you,  with  that  bit  of  squirrel's 
tail  under  your  nose,"  said  the  Squire.  "  Coming  over  to 
see  us  all  again  ?  That 's  right." 

"  Yes,"  I  answered  ;  "  I  am  on  my  way  to  Reading,  and 
did  not  like  to  pass  as  near  as  Cardiff,  without  calling  upon 
my  friends  in  Upper  Samaria.  I  hope  you  are  all  well." 

"  First-rate,  first-rate.  I  need  n't  ask  you.  You  've  got 
into  better  business  than  school-teaching,  I  should  reckon  ?  " 

I  smiled  in  conscious  triumph,  as  I  replied,  "  Oh  yes, 
much  better  in  every  way." 

"  Glad  to  hear  it.  Well  —  we  must  push  on.  See  you 
again  to-night.  You  '11  find  our  house  open,  and  somebody 
there  you  '11  like  to  see  :  ha,  ha  ! " 

With  a  chuckle  of  satisfaction  and  a  pistol-volley  from 
his  whip,  Squire  Bratton  drove  away,  leaving  me  in  a  state 
of  profound  astonishment.  What  did  he  mean  ?  Could  it 
be  that  he  had  accidentally  discovered,  or  that  Amanda 
had  confessed,  the  truth,  and  that  he  intended  to  give  me 
a  hint  of  his  approbation  ?  It  seemed  almost  too  complete 
a  joy  to  be  real,  and  yet  I  could  give  his  words  no  other 
interpretation.  As  for  Mrs.  Bratton,  she  had  laughed  and 
nodded  her  head,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Go  on  —  it  's  all 
right ! "  The  more  incredible  my  fortune  seemed,  the  more 
sure  I  felt  that  it  must  be  true.  An  instant  feeling  of  grat 
itude  and  affection  for  the  old  couple  sprang  up  in  my 
heart.  I  turned  about,  as  if  to  thank  them  on  the  spot  for 
my  perfect  happiness,  but  their  team  had  gone  over  the 
hill.  Then  I  hastened  forward,  up  the  long  rise,  with  feet 
that  scarcely  felt  the  road. 

Again  the  charming  valley  —  how  dear  its  every  feature 
now !  —  lay  spread  before  me.  There  was  Yule's  Mill,  and 
the  glassy  pond,  and  the  chimneys  of  Bratton's  house,  ris 
ing  out  of  a  boss  of  leaves  ;  and  down  the  stream,  over  the 


234  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

twinkling  lines  of  the  willows,  I  could  just  see  the  ragged 
top  of  the  old  hemlock,  sacred  to  the  first  confession  and 
surrender  of  love.  I  never  saw  a  lovelier,  happier,  more 
peaceful  scene  :  I  never  expect  to  see  its  like  again. 

Now  my  road  led  down  between  the  sloping  fields  which 
caught  the  full  warmth  of  the  sun,  and  let  their  grain  romp 
and  roll  in  the  sweet  summer  wind,  until  it  bent  to  the 
level  of  the  creek,  around  the  knoll  where  I  had  sought  for 
trailing  arbutus,  on  that  day  whence  my  life  as  a  man  ought 
to  be  dated.  I  there  determined  to  cross  the  stream  above 
the  pond,  and  make  my  way  straight  through  the  narrow 
field  beyond,  to  Bratton's  house.  First  Amanda,  and  the 
positive  assurance  of  my  bliss  !  I  said. 

Hot  and  panting  with  excitement  and  the  rapidity  of  my 
motions,  I  gained  the  top  of  the  knoll  at  last,  but  a  stone's 
throw  from  the  house.  All  was  quiet  around.  The  trees 
hid  the  windows,  and  even  the  front  veranda,  from  the 
point  where  I  stood,  and  I  thought  of  the  magic  hedge 
around  the  palace  of  the  Sleeping  Beauty.  The  hundred 
years  had  passed,  and  I  was  the  fortunate  prince,  come  to 
waken  my  beloved  with  a  kiss.  I  paused,  and  held  back 
the  joy  at  my  lips,  that  I  might  the  longer  taste  its  perfect 
flavor.  All  at  once  I  heard  the  voice  of  some  one  singing, 
—  a  voice  moving  along  under  the  trees.  It  was  she  !  — 
I  saw  the  rose-tint  of  her  dress  through  the  gaps  in  the 
shrubbery.  I  saw  her  glide  along  towards  an  open  arbor 
of  lattice-work,  overgrown  with  clematis,  which  stood  on 
the  top  of  the  lawn,  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  house. 

Now  was  my  fortunate  moment !  I  sprang  over  the 
fence,  crept  down  behind  the  clumps  of  lilac  and  roses,  and 
reached  the  arbor  as  she  was  singing  the  line,  "And  I've 
seen  an  eye  still  brighter"  (How  well  I  remember  it.) 
Her  back  was  towards  me :  she  was  looking  out,  over  the 
railing,  down  the  road  to  the  mill.  How  lovely  her  slen 
der  figure,  clad  in  pink  lawn,  showed  in  the  green  frame  ! 
I  could  no  longer  contain  myself,  but  cried  out,  in  a  voice 
which  I  vainly  strove  to  soften  to  a  whisper,  — 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  235 

"  Amanda  !     Dear  Amanda  ! " 

She  started,  with  a  gasp,  rather  than  a  scream,  of  sur 
prise.  She  turned  and  recognized  me  :  a  fiery  blush  ran 
over  her  face  and  neck,  but  instantly  died  away,  leaving 
her  very  pale.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  mine  with  an 
expression  of  alarm  ;  her  lips  moved  a  little,  but  she  seemed 
unable  to  speak. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  frighten  you  so,  Amanda,"  I  said,  — 
"  but  I  am  so  glad,  so  happy ! "  And  I  rushed  forward, 
threw  my  arms  around  her  waist,  and  bent  down  to  give 
her  the  kiss  for  which  I  had  hungered  so  long. 

But  she  screamed,  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and 
twisted  herself  out  of  my  embrace.  "  Leave  me  alone  ! " 
she  said,  in  a  low,  hard  voice,  as  she  escaped  to  the  other 
side  of  the  table,  and  stood  there,  pale,  and  trembling  a 
little. 

"  Don't  be  angry,  darling  !  "  I  pleaded.  "  Is  n't  't  true, 
then,  that  your  father  and  mother  know  everything  ?  I 
met  them  on  the  road,  and  they  told  me  to  come  here  at 
once  —  that  you  would  be  glad  to  see  me.  I  thought  they 
must  know,  you  see,  and  that  all  our  troubles  were  over,  for 
I  'm  free  at  last,  —  I  am  my  own  master,  and  now  I  can 
speak  to  your  father.  It  will  all  come  out  right,  and  we 
will  be  rewarded  for  our  patience." 

I  gently  approached  her  as  I  spoke  these  words.  But 
she  put  out  her  hand  to  keep  me  away,  and  said,  with  her 
face  turned  from  me,  "  You  must  not  say  such  things  to 
me,  Mr.  Godfrey." 

Something  in  the  tone  of  her  voice  seemed  to  chill  my 
very  blood.  I  was  so  startled  and  astonished  that  the  first 
thought  which  came  into  my  head  forced  for  itself  a  pas 
sionate  utterance. 

"  Amanda ! "  I  cried,  "  tell  me  what  all  this  means  ! 
What  have  you  heard  ?  Has  anybody  dared  to  slander  me 
in  my  absence,  and  have  you  believed  it  ?  " 

I  had  scarcely  finished  speaking  before  she  sprang  forth 
from  the  arbor,  crying,  "  Charles  !  Charles  ! " 


236  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  had  not  heard  the  approaching  step  on  the  lawn,  but 
close  at  hand  arose  a  familiar  masculine  voice,  "  Why, 
what's  the  matter,  dear?"  Looking  out,  I  was  petrified 
at  beholding,  three  paces  off,  my  Amanda  (I  still  thought 
her  mine)  clinging  to  Charley  Rand,  who  already  had  his 
arm  about  her  waist.  Nor  did  he  relinquish  his  clasp  when 
he  lifted  his  head  and  saw  me. 

"  Godfrey  ! "  he  exclaimed ;  "  where  did  you  drop  from, 
all  at  once  ?  " 

He  stretched  out  his  hand,  as  if  expecting  me  to  come 
forward  and  take  it.  I  stood  motionless,  striving  to  realize 
the  fact  of  this  double  treachery.  My  tongue  clove  to  my 
jaws,  and  I  was  unable  to  articulate  a  word. 

"  What  has  happened,  Amanda  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  Charles  ! "  she  murmured,  tenderly,  with  her  head 
on  his  shoulder,  "  Mr.  Godfrey  has  so  frightened  me." 

He  laughed.  "  Never  mind,"  he  said ;  "  you  seem  to 
have  frightened  him  quite  as  badly." 

Disengaging  his  arm,  he  now  approached  me.  I  invol 
untarily  retreated  a  step,  and  my  voice  returned  to  me. 

"  Stand  back,  Rand ! "  I  cried.  "  What  are  you  doing 
here  ?  What  right  have  you  to  hold  Miss  Bratton  in  your 
arms  ?  " 

"  Come,  now,  that 's  a  good  joke ! "  said  he,  with  an  inso 
lent  air,  —  "  Miss  Bratton  ?  Mrs.  Rand,  you  mean  !  Mrs. 
Rand  since  two  days.  I  thought,  to  be  sure,  you  had  come 
down  on  purpose  to  congratulate  us." 

I  could  not  yet  believe  it.  "  Amanda !  "  I  said,  turning 
to  her,  and  speaking  with  a  voice  which  I  hardly  recognized 
as  my  own,  "  is  it  true  ?  Are  you  married  to  that  man  ?  " 

She  stood  up  and  looked  me  full  in  the  face.  There  was 
not  a  quiver  of  her  eyelids,  nor  a  shade  of  deeper  color  on 
her  pale,  quiet  face.  "  Certainly,"  she  said. 

"  Good  God ! "  I  cried ;  "  you  could  break  your  faith  with 
me,  without  a  word!  This  is  your  truth!  This  is  your 
patience  !  You,  whom  I  have  so  loved,  for  whose  sake  I 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  237 

have  so  labored !  Rand,  did  you  know  that  she  and  I  were 
engaged  —  that  she  had  given  her  heart  to  me  —  that  she 
has  been  mine,  in  the  sight  of  God,  for  more  than  a  year 
past?" 

I  saw,  while  I  was  speaking,  that  his  face  was  beginning 
to  grow  dark.  Amanda  must  have  noticed  it  also,  and  have 
instantly  decided  what  course  to  take,  for  she  confronted 
me  without  flinching,  the  settled  calm  of  her  face  stiffening 
into  a  hard,  cold,  cruel  mask,  in  which  I  saw  her  true 
nature  expressed,  —  the  mingled  nature  of  the  cat  and  the 
serpent,  false,  selfish,  and  venomous. 

"  It  is  a  lie !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  How  dare  you  say  such 
things  ?  I  never  was  engaged  to  you  —  I  never  told  you 
that  I  loved  you !  " 

"  Amanda ! "  was  all  I  could  utter.  But  the  helpless 
appeal  of  love,  the  bitter  reproach,  the  hot  indignation  of 
an  honest  heart,  which  together  found  expression  in  that 
one  word,  were  shattered  against  the  icy  visage  of  her 
treachery. '  She  turned  to  Rand,  with  a  tender,  frightened 
air,  saying,  "  Charles,  make  him  go  away  :  he  is  certainly 
crazy ! " 

"  Come,"  said  he,  "  we  've  had  quite  enough  of  this,  God 
frey  !  You  were  always  a  little  vain,  you  know,  and  you 
must  n't  think  that  because  a  young  lady  behaves  friendly, 
and  admires  your  writings,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  that 
she  's  dead  in  love  with  you.  I  don't  mind  your  prancing 
around  in  this  way,  so  far  as  I  'm  concerned,  but  I  won't 
see  my  wife  insulted." 

I  could  have  borne  anything  better  than  his  flippant,  pat 
ronizing  tone  ;  but,  indeed,  my  back  was  not  then  strong 
enough  to  bear  another  feather's-weight  of  burden.  It  was 
not  merely  that  the  cherished  bliss  of  my  life  was  dashed  to 
pieces  in  a  moment :  I  was  outraged,  humiliated,  wounded 
at  all  points.  My  conflicting  feelings,  all  surging  towards 
the  same  centre,  possessed  me  wholly,  body  and  brain,  and 
I  can  no  longer  disentangle  them,  in  memory.  I  was  mad. 


238  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  Then  see  yourself  insulted !  "  I  shouted.  My  muscles 
acted  of  themselves,  with  wonderful  rapidity.  Rand  re 
ceived  a  blow  in  the  face  and  tumbled  over  backwards 
upon  the  grass.  His  wife  screamed  and  seemed  to  be 
making  towards  me,  her  quiet  eyes  lighted  up  horribly  with 
a  white,  steely  blaze.  I  remember  turning  away  with  a 
contemptuous  laugh,  stumbling  down  the  lawn  like  a  drunk 
en  man,  with  a  dizzy  humming  in  my  ears,  and  finding 
my  way,  somehow,  to  a  lonely  nook  under  the  willows,  a 
short  distance  below  the  mill.  There  I  sat  down,  and  after 
sharp,  convulsive  pangs,  as  on  that  night  at  school  when 
Penrose  soothed  me,  the  storm  broke  into  tears.  I  covered 
my  face  with  my  hands  and  wept  long  and  passionately.  It 
was  impossible  to  think,  or  to  call  to  my  help  the  least  of 
the  consolations  which  afterwards  came.  I  could  feel  noth 
ing  but  the  deadly  hurt  of  the  wound. 

All  at  once,  as  the  violence  of  my  passion  was  wearing 
itself  out,  I  felt  a  hand  gently  pressing  my  shoulder.  I 
need  not  have  started,  with  a  sudden,  angry  suspicion  of 
further  treachery :  it  was  only  Dan  Yule.  I  took  his  hand, 
and  tried  to  say  something. 

He  sat  down  beside  me,  and  patted  my  leg,  with  a  kind 
familiarity.  "Don't 'mind  me"  said  he:  "I  guess  I  know 
what 's  the  matter,  havin'  had  a  suspicion  of  it  from  the  first. 
I  seen  what  was  goin'  on  over  t'  the  Squire's,  and  had  a 
good  mind  to  ha'  writ  to  you  about  it,  —  but,  thinks  I,  it 
a'n't  none  o'  my  business,  and  like  as  not  she 's  told  him 
herself,  and  so  I  'd  better  keep  clear.  But  I  did  n't  like  it 
none  the  more.  I  'd  just  got  in  a  big  saw-log  this  after 
noon,  when  I  seen  you  comin'  down  from  the  Squire's,  and 
turnin'  into  the  willers — seemed  like  as  if  you  didn't 
exackly  know  where  you  was  goin'.  So  I  set  Jim  to  shut 
off  the  water  when  the  saw  got  to  t'  other  end,  and  sneaked 
across  to  see  what  had  become  o'  you." 

Dan  kept  his  eyes  on  the  ground  while  he  spoke,  and 
mechanically  went  on  patting  my  leg,  as  if  both  anxious  to 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  239 

comfort  me  in  some  way  and  fearful  lest  his  presence  was 
embarrassing.  I  said  something  at  last  about  my  disap 
pointment  being  so  unexpected  —  something  which  he  in 
terpreted  as  an  apology  for  my  weakness. 

"  You  need  n't  be  ashamed  on  it,"  said  he.  "  Lots  o'  fel 
lows  takes  on  that  way,  only  a  man  does  n't  like  to  be  seen. 
I  s'pose  people  thinks  it  is  n't  jist  manly,  but  there  's  times 
when  you  can't  help  yourself.  You  don't  mean  that  you 
had  no  idee  she  was  married,  till  you  come  here  and  found 
it  out?" 

I  thereupon  told  Dan  the  whole  story,  and  in  telling  it,  I 
saw  the  trick  which  Amanda  had  played  with  me  and  with 
her  own  conscience.  It  was  true  that  she  had  never  said, 
either  when  I  declared  my  love,  or  afterwards  in  her  letters, 
in  so  many  words,  that  she  loved  me  :  but  this  discovery  only 
made  the  actual  lie  more  enormous.  There  was  conscious, 
cold-blooded  deception  ff om  the  beginning :  I  was  bound, 
but  not  she.  I  suppose  she  must  have  liked  me,  in  her 
passive  way ;  or  I  may  have  been  the  first  fish  that  came 
into  her  net.  Whatever  her  motive  was,  in  allowing  me  to 
believe  my  love  returned,  her  selfish  calculation  in  the  mat 
ter,  from  beginning  to  end,  was  now  apparent.  "When  I 
came  to  the  closing  scene  of  the  wretched  history,  Dan 
became  a  little  excited.  Instead  of  patting  my  leg,  he 
gave  it  a  spanking  slap,  and  swore,  in  a  general  way, 
without  launching  his  words  at  anybody  in  particular.  The 
blow  I  had  administered  to  Rand  put  him  in  a  good  humor 
again. 

"  I  dunno  but  I  'd  ha'  done  it  myself,  in  your  place,"  he 
said.  "  Though  it  is  n't  likely  that  he  was  so  much  to  blame, 
after  all,  if  he  did  n't  know  nothin'  about  it  before." 

The  thought  had  not  occurred  to  me.  I  immediately 
recognized  its  justice,  and  began  to  feel  ashamed  of  myself. 

"  Well,  John,"  Dan  continued,  "  I  reckon,  now,  you  '11 
come  over  and  stay  with  us  to-night.  Miss  Lavina  's  back 
again  this  summer,  and  she  has  your  room ;  but  Ike 's  away, 


240  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

and  you  can  put  up  for  the  night  with  me.  Miss  Lavina,  I 
need  n't  mind  tellin'  you,  is  likely  to  stay  with  us.  Sue  '11  be 
married  after  harvest,  and  I  've  kind  o'  prevailed  on  Lavina 
to  take  her  place." 

Dan  looked  so  sheepish  and  happy  that  I  understood 
him.  I  thanked  him  for  all  his  past  and  present  kindness, 
and  congratulated  him  with  fresh  tears  in  my  eyes,  on  the 
fortune  which  I  never,  never  should  know.  I  felt,  never 
theless,  that  it  was  impossible  to  accept  his  invitation,  —  im 
possible  for  me,  in  my  agitated  state,  to  spend  more  time  in 
Upper  Samaria  than  would  be  required  to  get  over  the  bor 
ders  of  the  township.  I  told  him  this,  and  he  seemed  to 
understand  it.  He  had  lighted  his  pipe,  and  was  leaning 
against  one  of  the  willows,  comfortably  smoking.  As  I 
arose  from  my  seat  on  the  log,  some  hard  substance  in  my 
breast-pocket  struck  my  arm. 

"  Dan,"  I  said,  "  have  you  a  match  ?  " 
"  Yes.  Have  you  learned  to  smoke,  at  last  ?  " 
I  said  nothing,  but  took  the  match  he  offered,  and  the 
green  morocco,  gilt-edged  copy  of  "  Leonora's  Dream,"  on 
the  fly-leaf  of  which  I  had  written  a  sonnet,  —  0  misery  ! 
—  a  sonnet  full  of  the  truest  and  the  tenderest  love,  to  ths 
wife  of  Charley  Rand  !  I  doubled  back  the  sumptuous  cov 
ers,  and  turned  the  leaves  from  me,  that  I  might  not  see 
one  word  of  that  mockery,  which  I,  poor  fool !  had  written 
with  tears  of  joy  dimming  my  eyes  ;  then,  striking  fire  with 
the  match,  I  held  it  to  the  book. 

"  Gosh  !  "  exclaimed  Dan  ;  "  what  's  that  for  ?  " 
The  flames  soon  devoured  not  only  the  manuscript  but 
all  the  hundred  and  twenty  pages  of  my  immortal  verse. 
Then  I  threw  the  glittering  cover  on  the  ground,  and 
stamped  on  it  with  fiendish  satisfaction.  When  it  had  been 
so  bruised  and  disfigured  that  the  title  was  illegible,  I  flung 
it  down  the  bank  into  the  stream. 

I  watched  it  as  it  drifted  slowly  along,  past  rotting  snag 
and  slimy  grass,  past  oozy  banks,  and  flats  of  rank  skunk- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  241 

cabbage,  and  felt  that  my  own  gilt-edged  dreams  were  flung 
with  it  to  as  foul  a  fate.  I  had  lost  my  love*,  and  it  left  no 
consecration  behind,  —  nothing  but  shame,  and  bitterness 
of  heart,  and  contempt  for  what  I  had  reverenced  in  myself 
as  most  holy ! 


1(5 


242  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

RELATING    HOW   I    CAME    INTO     POSSESSION     OP   MY   INHER 
ITANCE. 

AN  hour  before  sunset  I  found  myself  again  on  the  ridge 
overlooking  the  valley.  I  was  weak  and  tired,  and  as  I 
leaned  upon  the  fence  after  climbing  the  long  ascent,  I  was 
conscious  of  the  dismal  change  which  had  come  upon  the 
beautiful  world  of  three  hours  before.  I  saw  the  same 
woods  and  hills,  but  the  foliage  had  become  hard  and  black, 
the  fields  dreary  in^their  flat  greenness,  and  the  sky  seemed 
to  hold  itself  aloof  in  a  cold  divorce  from  the  landscape  to 
which  it  had  so  lately  been  softly  wedded.  Night,  or  storm, 
or  winter,  would  have  been  less  cheerless.  An  unutter 
able  sense  of  loneliness  filled  my  heart.  I  was  still  young 
enough  to  suppose  that  all  emotions  were  eternal  simply 
because  they  were  emotions.  I  was  sure  that  my  love 
would  never  have  faded  or  changed  ;  now  it  was  violently 
torn  from  me,  leaving  a  pang  in  its  place,  to  inherit  its  own 
enduring  life.  The  world  could  give  nothing  to  compen 
sate  me  for  this  loss.  Better  would  it  be  if  I  could  die,  and 
so  escape  the  endless  procession  of  dark,  blighted,  hopeless 
days.  Then  I  saw,  for  the  first  time,  and  stood  face  to  face 
with  that  Doubt  which  suspends  us,  trembling,  over  the 
abyss  of  nothingness.  I  asked  that  question  which  no  hu 
man  mind  dare  long  entertain,  —  that  question,  the  breath 
of  which  crumbles  Good  and  Evil,  Time,  Faith,  and  Provi 
dence,  making  of  life  a  terror  and  a  despair.  The  outer 
crust  of  thought,  upon  which  I  had  lived,  gave  way,  and  I 
looked  shudderingly  down  into  central  deeps  of  darkness 
and  of  fire. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  243 

The  struggle  which  my  nature  was  undergoing  will  be 
better  understood  when  its  mixed  character  is  considered. 
Either  pure  sorrow  for  a  lost  love,  or  vain  yearning  for  a 
love  which  had  been  withheld,  could  have  been  compre 
hended  by  the  heart,  and  therefore  so  grasped  as  to  be  best 
borne  ;  but  this  —  what  was  it  ?  A  tumult  of  love  and  hate, 
—  for  the  habit  of  a  year  could  not  be  unlearned  in  a  mo 
ment,  —  disappointed  hope,  betrayed  faith,  devotion  igno- 
rantly  given  to  heartless  selfishness,  a  revelation  of  the 
baseness  of  human  nature  shed  upon  a  boundless  trust  in 
its  nobility  !  It  assailed  all  my  forms  of  faith  at  once,  de 
priving  me  not  only  of  love,  but  of  the  supports  which 
might  have  helped  me  to  bear  its  loss. 

I  knew  that  she,  henceforth,  would  hate  me.  Even  if 
some  rudimentary  hint  of  a  conscience  existed  in  her  na 
ture,  and  the  remembrance  of  her  deception  were  able  to 
give  it  an  occasional  uneasiness,  the  blow  I  inflicted  on  her 
husband,  before  her  eyes,  more  than  cancelled  the  wrong. 
She  would  now  justify  herself  to  herself,  as  fully  as  to  him. 
If  the  story  were  ever  disclosed,  both,  of  course,  would  be 
considered  the  aggrieved  parties  in  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
and  I  the  vain,  adventurous  miscreant. 

I  walked  slowly  and  wearily  back  to  Cardiff,  keeping  a 
good  lookout  for  the  vehicle  of  the  elder  Brattons,  which  I 
discerned  far  enough  in  advance  to  avoid  successfully.  The 
landlord  by  this  time  had  found  out  who  I  was,  and  tor 
tured  me  with  stories  about  the  marriage,  which  I  had  not 
tact  enough  to  escape.  It  appeared,  from  what  he  said, 
that  Squire  Bratton,  Mulford,  and  Rand's  father,  with  some 
others,  were  concerned  in  a  speculation  for  buying  coal- 
lands,  the  profits  whereupon  were  to  be  realized  when  a  cer 
tain  projected  railroad  had  been  built.  Rand  himself  was 
believed  to  have  a  minor  share  in  the  enterprise ;  he  was 
reckoned  to  be  "a  mighty  smart  business-man,"  and  the 
Squire  took  to  him  from  the  start.  He  had  frequently  come 
down  from  Reading  during  the  previous  winter,  but  the 


244  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

match  had  not  been  talked  about  until  a  few  weeks  before 
it  took  place.  They  were  going  to  Reading  to  live,  the 
landlord  said,  and  the  old  folks  were  quite  set  up  about  it. 

I  gave  a  melancholy  groan  of  relief,  when  I  at  last  found 
myself  in  bed,  and  surrounded  by  congenial  darkness.  I 
tried  to  compose  my  thoughts  to  my  accustomed  prayer, 
but  the  spectre  I  had  invoked  showed  a  blank  where  I 
had  once  seen  the  face  of  God.  Men  were  nothing  but 
accidental  combinations  of  atoms,  it  said  ;  Life  was  a  tem 
porary  condition,  and  joy,  sorrow,  duty,  love,  were  things 
of  education,  unreal  and  perishable ;  there  was  neither  Vir 
tue  nor  Vice  but  in  imagination,  —  neither  happiness  nor 
misery,  nor  anything  positive  but  physical  sensation  —  and 
that  only  while  it  lasted.  So  far  from  shrinking  from  these 
suggestions,  I  took  a  fearful  pleasure  in  following  them  to 
their  common  termination,  on  the  brink  of  that  gulf  where 
all  sentient  existence  melts  into  nothing,  as  smoke  into  air. 

The  next  day  I  took  the  stage  to  Reading,  performing 
the  journey  in  the  same  hardened,  apathetic  mood.  There 
was  even,  at  times,  a  grim  satisfaction  in  the  thought  that  I 
was  now  free  from  every  emotion  which  could  attach  me  to 
my  fellow-beings,  —  free  from  the  duties  of  blood,  the  ten 
der  allegiance  of  love,  the  services  of  friendship.  I  saw 
nothing  but  selfishness  in  the  world  ;  I  would  be  selfish  too. 

Reaching  Reading  in  the  evening,  I  took  up  my  quarters 
at  the  "  Mansion  House."  I  was  in  no  mood  to  claim  my 
uncle's  hospitality,  although  the  grievance  I  had  borne 
against  him  now  seemed  a  very  insignificant  thing.  I  was 
neither  afraid  of  him  nor  his  efforts  to  procure  me  "a 
change  of  heart."  Nearly  two  years  had  elapsed  since  that 
episode  of  my  life,  and  I  was  beginning  to  see  how  much  I 
had  exaggerated  its  character.  I  had  no  dread  of  the 
approaching  interview.  Indeed,  I  so  far  relented  towards 
Aunt  Peggy  as  to  take  a  copy  of  my  volume  for  presenta 
tion  to  her. 

When  I  went  down  Penn  Street  after  breakfast,  the  next 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  245 

morning,  to  the  well-known  corner,  I  saw  that  a  change  — 
which,  nevertheless,  did  not  surprise  me  —  had  occurred  in 
the  establishment.  The  old,  weather-beaten  sign  had  dis 
appeared,  and  in  its  place  was  a  new  one,  white  ground  and 
black  letters,  shaded  with  blue :  "  WOOLLEY  AND  HIMPEL'S 
GROCERY  STORE."  Bolty  was  not  so  stupid  as  his  heavy 
face  and  sleepy  eyes  proclaimed.  He  had  already  made 
his  nest,  and  would  not  be  long  in  feathering  it  comfort 
ably. 

There  he  was,  behind  the  counter,  a  little  more  brisk  in 
his  movements  than  formerly,  and  with  every  bit  of  his 
familiar  loquacity.  He  was  a  trifle  taller,  and  his  white  hair 
was  brushed  straight  up  from  his  forehead  instead  of  being 
cut  short.  His  thick,  pale  lips  hung  half-open,  as  usual,  and 
his  eyes  expressed  the  same  lazy  innocence,  but  I  fancied  I 
could  see  the  commencement  of  a  cunning  wrinkle  at  their 
corners.  He  wore  a  short  jacket  of  grass-cloth,  buttoned 
in  front,  which  arrangement  I  admired,  for  I  knew  that  the 
bosom  of  his  shirt  was  not  wont  to  be  in  a  presentable  con 
dition. 

As  I  appeared  at  the  door,  he  recognized  me  at  once. 
Catch  him,  indeed,  forgetting  any  face  he  had  ever  known  ! 
I  suspect  he  still  retained  a  sort  of  phlegmatic  liking  for 
me,  or  at  least  was  now  satisfied  that  I  could  no  longer 
interfere  with  his  plans,  for  he  slipped  along  the  counter 
towards  me  with  every  appearance  of  cordiality,  stretch 
ing  out  his  fat  hand  as  he  cried,  "  Why,  John  Godfrey !  Is 
that  you  now  ?  And  -you  've  come  back  to  see  us,  after  so 
long  !  I  declare  I  did  n't  know  what  had  become  o'  you ; 
—  but  you  're  lookin'  well  —  wery  well  —  better  as  ever  I 
see  you.  —  Yes,  ma'am !  The  '  Peruvian  Preventative,'  did 
you  say  ?  You  could  n't  take  nothin'  better ;  we  sells  cart 
loads  o'  boxes  —  cart-loads,  and  the  more  people  use  'em 
the  more  they  wants  'em ! " 

He  was  off  and  waiting  upon  the  customer,  —  a  woman 
from  the  country,  with  very  few  front  teeth  and  a  sun-bon- 


246          JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

net,  —  before  I  could  say  a  word.  I  was  so  amused  at  this 
exhibition  of  his  old  habits,  that,  for  the  first  time  in  two 
days,  I  felt  the  sensation  of  laughter  creeping  back  to  its 
accustomed  nook.  Presently  the  woman  left,  and,  the  store 
being  now  empty,  Bolty  returned  to  me. 

"  You  was  a  little  surprised,  was  n't  you  ?  "  he  asked,  "  to 
see  my  name  over  the  door.  It 's  been  up  sence  Easter, 
and  we  're  doin'  wery  well  —  wery  well,  indeed.  'T  a'n't 
much  of  an  int'rest  I  've  got,  though,  —  only  a  quarter,  but 
it 's  a  good  beginnin'.  The  customers  knows  me,  you  see, 
and  they  stick  to  me.  Mr.  Woolley  's  got  a  good  deal  of 
other  business  on  his  hands  now." 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  I  have  heard  of  it." 

"  Coal-lands  ?  Yes ;  you  've  heerd  right.  Not  that  I 
know  much  about  it.  He  's  awful  close,  Mr.  TVoolley  is,  — 
keeps  his  own  counsel,  as  he  says,  and  Mulford  and  Rand's 
too,  I  guess.  But  what  have  you  a-been  carryin'  on  ?  You 
look  mighty  smart,  so  I  guess  it  ha'n't  been  a  bad  spec." 

I  told  Bolty  as  much  in  reference  to  my  position  in  New 
York  as  I  thought  proper,  and  then  asked  for  my  uncle. 

"  He  's  gone  down  to  the  canawl,"  said  Bolty ;  "  but  he  '11 
be  back  as  soon  as  the  Banks  is  open." 

"Then  I '11  go  in  an:!  see  Aunt  Peggy." 

I  entered  the  little  back-parlor.  The  sofa  and  chairs 
were  more  shiny  and  slippery  than  ever,  and  a  jagged  abat- 
tis  of  horse-hair  was  beginning  to  project  from  the  edges 
of  the  seats.  There  was  no  improvement  in  the  atmos 
phere  of  the  room  since  I  had  left-,  —  nothing  had  been 
taken  away,  and  nothing  added  except  a  mezzotint  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Mellowby,  in  a  flat  mahogany  frame.  My  aunt 
was  not  there,  but  I  heard  noises  in  the  kitchen,  and  went 
thither  without  further  ceremony. 

Aunt  Peggy  was  bending  over  the  stove,  with  a  handker 
chief  around  her  head,  an  old  calico  apron  over  her  dress, 
a  pot-lid  in  one  hand  and  a  pewter  spoon  in  the  other. 

"Well,  Aunt  Peggy,"  said  I,  "how  do  you  do  by  this 
time?" 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  247 

• 

She  was  very  much  surprised,  of  course ;  but  she  trans 
ferred  the  spoon  to  the  hand  which  held  the  pot-lid,  and 
greeted  me  with  a  mixture  of  embarrassment  and  affection. 
A  few  tears  certainly  dropped  from  her  eyes,  but  I  knew 
how  easily  they  came,  and  did  not  feel  encouraged  to  make 
any  great  show  of  emotion. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  've  come  to  see  us,  John,"  she  said,  in  her 
most  melancholy  tone.  "  Walk  into  the'settin'-room.  I  'd 
like  to  hear  that  you  don't  bear  malice  against  your  rela 
tions,  that  meant  to  do  for  your  good.  It  seemed  hard, 
goin'  away  the  way  you  did." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Peggy,  let  bygones  be  bygones.  I  dare  say 
you  meant  to  do  right,  but  it  has  turned  out  best  as  it  is." 

"  I  had  mournin'  enough,"  she  said,  "  that  things  could  n't 
have  gone  as  me  and  your  uncle  wanted;  but  I  s'pose 
we  've  all  got  to  have  our  trials  and  tribulations." 

That  was  all  we  said  about  the  matter.  I  was  well 
dressed;  and  gave  a  most  favorable  account  of  my  worldly 
prospects,  and  my  aunt  seemed  considerably  cheered  and 
relieved.  I  suspect  that  her  conscience  had  been  tormented 
by  the  fear  of  her  sister's  son  becoming  a  castaway,  and  that 
she  had  therefore  been  troubled  with  doubts  in  regard  to 
the  circumstances  which  drove  me  from  her  roof.  My  suc 
cess  removed  that  trouble,  at  least.  Then  I  presented  the 
book,  in  which  I  had  turned  down  leaves  to  mark  a  few 
poems  of  a  religious  character,  which  I  thought  she  might 
read  with  some  satisfaction.  Such  things  as  "  The  Lament 
of  Hero,"  I  knew,  would  be  quite  unintelligible  to  her.  She 
was  greatly  delighted  with  the  present,  promising  to  show 
it  to  Mr.  Cutler,  the  new  minister. 

We  were  getting  on  very  pleasantly  together,  when  my 
uncle  entered  from  the  shop.  As  Bolty  had  apprised  him 
of  my  arrival,  his  face  expressed  more  curiosity  than  sur 
prise.  His  greeting  was  cordial,  but  its  cordiality  did  not 
strike  me  as  being  entirely  natural.  His  hair  had  grown 
grayer,  but  there  was  no  shade  of  difference  in  the  var- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

nished  cheeks  and  the  large  tight  mouth.  Intercourse  with 
his  new  associates  had  already  given  him  a  more  worldly 
air.  It  was  certain  that  neither  his  un  worthiness  nor  his 
fortunate  assurance  of  u  grace  "  occupied  his  thoughts  so 
much  as  formerly.  Considering  what  had  passed  between 
us,  I  felt  more  at  ease  in  his  presence  than  I  had  antici- 


u  You  look  Tery  well,  John,"  said  he.  "I  hope  you  havo 
been  at  least  successful  in  temporal  things." 

He  could  not  deny  himself  this  insinuation,  but  I  was  no 
longer  sensitive  on  the  point  and  did  not  notice  it.  Of 
course,  I  represented  my  affairs  to  him  in  the  most  pros 
perous  light,  setting  forth  my  promising  chances  for  the 
future,  while  feeling  hi  my  heart  their  utter  hollo  wness  and 
vanity. 

11.  you  're  settled  at  a  business  that  aeons  to  suit 
you,"  he  said.  "That  *s  a  good  thing.  You  Ve  gone  your 
way  and  I  Ve  gone  mine,  but  there  need  not  be  any  diffi 
culty  between  us." 

"No,  Uncle  Amos,"  I  replied.  «I  have  learned  to  take 
care  of  myself!  The  principal  object  of  my  visit  is  to  re 
lieve  you  from  all  further  trouble  on  my  account," 

-In  what  way?"  he  asked. 

-  Why,"  I  exclaimed,  a  little  •**""*&•*•,  "don't  you  know 
that  I  am  twenty-one  ?  " 

-Twenty-one!  Oh  —  ah!  Tea,  I  see.  Are  you  sure 
of  it?  I  did  not  think  it  was  so  soon." 

Somehow,  his  words  made  an  unpleasant  impression  upon 
me.  I  soon  convinced  him,  by  the  mention  of  certain  dates, 
that  I  knew  my  own  age,  and  then  added,  "  I  am  now  en- 
tided  to  my  money,  you  know.  If  you  put  out  last  year's 
interest,  there  must  have  been  more  than  eighteen  hundred 
dollars  due  to  me  on  the  first  of  April." 

«Yes,"  said  he,  "of  course  I  put  it  out  But  I  really 
did  n't  suppose  you  would  want  the  capital  at  once.  I  did  n't 
—  hm,  well  —  make  arrangements  to  have  it  ready  at  a 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FOETTNES.  249 

moment's  warning.  You  see,  John,  you  should  have  noti 
fied  me  in  the  proper  way  beforehand.  This,  I  may  say. 
Is  not  notifying  me  at  alL  Besides,  why  should  you  want 
the  money  now  ?  What  will  you  do  with  it  ?  You  surely 
would  n't  think  of  speculating  in  the  stock-market ;  that  'd 
be  throwing  it  to  the  four  winds.  If  you  put  it  in  the  sav 
ings-bank,  you  Tl  only  get  five  per  cent  instead  of  six.  as 
you  get  now.  Why  not  let  it  be  where  it  i  the 

interest  if  you  want:  I  might  advance  you  this  year's, 
though  it 's  put  out  too.  —  but  when  you  Ve  got  your  cap 
ital  safe,  keep  it  so." 

a  I  wish  to  have  my  own  money  in  my  own  hands,"  I 
answered,  rather  coldly.  "  I  never  supposed  a  notification 
would  be  necessary,  as  you  knew  I  was  entitled  to  receive 
the  money  as  soon  as  I  came  of  age,  I  consider  myself 
capable  of  taking  care  of  it,  and  even  if  I  should  lose  it, 
that  is  altogether  my  own  business." 

*  Oh,  no  doubt  no  doubt"  said  my  uncle.  He  rubbed 
his  shiny  cheek  and  stretched  out  his  lower  jaw.  as  if  per 
plexed.  a  You  are  entitled  to  the  money,  that  is  all  right 
enough,  but  —  but  it 's  still  mtt,  and  I  don't  see  how  I 
could  get  it  just  now." 

"  At  any  rate,  you  can  transfer  the  bond  —  or  whatever 
it  is  —  to  me.  That  will  be  equivalent  to  the  money,  for 
the  present" 

Uncle  Amos  grew  very  red  in  the  face,  and  vis  silent 
for  a  few  minutes-  His  arm-chair  seemed  to  be  an  uneasy 
seat  He  looked  at  me  once,  but  instantly  turned  his  eyes 
away  on  encountering  mine.  At  last  he  said.  - 1  can't 
well  do  that,  John,  because  it  aVt  invested  separately  — 
it 's  along  with  a  good  deal  of  my  own.  You  see,  it  *s  this 
way.  —  111  tell  you  all  about  it  and  then  I  think  you  H  be 
satisfied  to  leave  things  as  they  are.  I  Ve  gone  into  an 
operation  with  some  other  gentlemen,  —  we  keep  rather 
dark  about  it  and  I  don't  want  you  to  say  anything.  —  and 
we  Ve  bought  up  a  big  tract  of  land  in  Monroe  County, 


250  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

among  the  mountains,  where  there  's  sure  to  be  coal.  It 
a'n't  worth  much  now,  but  when  the  railroad  is  opened, 
there 's  no  telling  what  we  may  n't  sell  out  for.  The  road 's 
pretty  sure  to  be  put  through  in  a  year  or  two,  and  then 
the  loss  of  interest  in  the  mean  time  will  be  nothing  in 

o 

comparison  to  the  profit  we  shall  make  by  the  operation. 
There  are  ten  thousand  acres  in  all,  and  I  was  put  down 
for  one  thousand ;  but  there  were  other  expenses,  surveyors, 
and  we  had  to  pay  a  geologist  a  big  price  to  take  a  quiet 
look  at  the  place  ;  so  I  had  n't  enough  of  my  own,  without 
putting  yours  with  it.  I  intend  you  shall  go  share  and 
share  with  me  in  the  profits.  You  may  get  six  hundred, 
or  six  thousand  per  cent,  instead  of  six.  Don't  you  see 
how  much  better  that  will  be  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't ! "  I  cried.  I  was  again  thunderstruck,  and 
the  bitter  tumult  of  my  feelings  began  to  rage  anew.  "  I 
see  only  this,  that  you  had  no  right  to  touch  a  cent  of  my 
money.  It  was  put  in  your  charge  by  my  poor  mother,  to 
be  returned  to  me  when  it  should  become  due,  not  to  be 
risked  in  some  mad  speculation  of  yours,  about  which  I 
know  nothing  except  that  one  infernal  scoundrel  at  least 
is  engaged  in  it !  You  to  warn  me  against  risking  it  in 
stocks,  indeed !  If  you  meant  me  to  go  share  and  share 
with  you,  why  did  you  ask  me  to  be  satisfied  with  six  per 
cent.?" 

My  uncle's  eyes  fell  at  these  words.  I  saw  my  advan 
tage,  and  felt  a  wicked  delight  in  thus  holding  him  at  my 
mercy.  His  face  looked  clammy,  and  his  chin  dropped, 
giving  a  peculiarly  cowed,  helpless  expression  to  his  mouth. 
When  he  spoke,  there  was  a  tone  in  his  voice  which  I 
had  never  before  heard. 

"  I  know,  John,"  he  said,  "  that  you  don't  like  me  overly, 
and  perhaps  you  won't  believe  what  I  say ;  but,  indeed,  I 
did  mean  to  share  the  profits  with  you.  I  thought,  only, 
if  you  'd  leave  the  money  in  my  hands,  I  would  n't  say  any 
thing  about  the  operation  yet  awhile.  It 's  done  now,  and 
can't  be  helped." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  251 

"  Why  not  ?  "  I  asked.  "  You  can  borrow  the  money,  on 
your  house  and  store.  Give  me  what  belongs  to  me,  and 
you  may  keep  all  the  profits  of  your  '  operation,'  —  if  you 
ever  get  any  ! " 

He  looked  around  with  an  alarmed  air,  carefully  closed 
the  kitchen-door,  and  then,  resuming  his  seat,  bent  forward 
and  whispered,  "  I  had  to  do  that,  as  it  was.  I  raised  all 
I  could  —  all  the  property  -would  bear.  It  was  'most  too 
much  for  me,  and  I  could  n't  have  turned  the  corner  if  I 
had  n't  sold  out  a  quarter  interest  in  the  grocery  to  Bolty. 
I  wish  you  could  understand  it  as  I  do,  —  you  'd  see  that 
it 's  a  sure  thing,  perfectly  sure." 

It  was  enough  for  me  that  Bratton,  Mulford,  and  the 
Rands  were  concerned  in  the  business.  That  fact  stamped 
it,  in  my  mind,  as  a  cheat  and  a  swindle,  and  my  uncle,  it 
seemed,  was  no  better  than  the  others.  I  was  fast  harden 
ing  into  an  utter  disbelief  in  human  honesty.  It  was  not 
so  much  the  loss  of  the  money  which  I  felt,  though  even 
that  had  a  sanctity  about  it  as  the  double  bequest  of  my 
dead  father  and  mother,  which  I  had  hoped  would  bring 
me  a  blessing  with  its  use.  I  had  learned  to  earn  my 
living,  and  knew  that  I  should  not  suffer ;  but  I  was 
again  the  dupe  of  imposition,  the  innocent  victim  of  out 
rage. 

I  was  conscious  of  a  strong  bodily  chill :  the  teeth  chat 
tered  in  my  head.  I  rose  from  my  seat,  turned  to  him  for 
the  last  time,  and  said,  "  Amos  Woolley,  you  know  that 
you  have  acted  dishonestly,  —  that  you  have  broken  your 
trust,  both  to  my  mother  and  me.  I  thought  once  that 
you  were  trying  sincerely  to  serve  God  in  your  own  blind, 
bigoted  way ;  but  now  I  see  that  Mammon  is  your  master. 
Get  you  a  change  of  heart  before  you  preach  it  to  others. 
I  will  not  prosecute  and  ruin  you,  by  showing  to  the  world 
your  true  character,  though  you  seem  to  have  cared  little 
whether  or  not  I  was  ruined  by  your  act.  If  you  should 
ever  repent  and  become  honest,  you  will  restore  me  my 


252  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

inheritance ;  but,  until  you  do  it,  I  shall  not  call  you  '  uncle/ 
I  shall  not  take  your  hand,  I  shall  not  enter  your  door ! " 

His  chin  dropped  lower,  and  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  me 
with  a  reproachful  expression,  as  he  listened  to  my  sharp 
words.  I  put  on  my  hat  and  turned  towards  the  door. 
"  John  ! "  he  cried,  "  you  are  wrong  —  you  will  one  day  be 
sorry  for  what  you  have  said." 

Aunt  Peggy  at  that  moment  entered  from  the  kitchen. 
"  You  're  not  goin'  away,  John  ?  "  she  said  ;  "  you  '11  come 
back  to  dinner  at  twelve  ?  " 

"  No,  aunt,"  I  answered  ;  "  I  shall  probably  never  come 
back  again  to  see  you.  Good-bye  ! "  And  I  picked  up  her 
hanging  hand. 

"  What  ails  you  ?     What  has  happened  ?  " 

"  Ask  your  husband." 

I  went  into  the  store,  closing  the  door  behind  me.  When 
I  saw  Bolty's  face  I  felt  sure  that  he  had  been  eavesdrop 
ping.  He  did  not  seem  surprised  that  I  was  going  away, 
and  I  fancied  there  was  something  constrained  and  artifi 
cial  in  his  parting,  "  Come  back  right  soon,  and  see  us 
again ! "  Perhaps  I  wronged  him,  but  I  was  not  in  a 
mood  to  put  the  best  construction  upon  anybody's  acts  or 
words. 

I  walked  up  Penn  Street  at  a  rapid  rate,  looking  neither 
to  the  right  nor  left,  and  found  myself,  before  I  knew  it, 
high  up  on  the  side  of  Penn's  Mount,  beyond  and  above 
the  city.  The  walk  had  chased  away  the  chill  and  stag 
nation  of  my  blood.  I  was  flushed  and  panting,  and  choos 
ing  a  shady  bank,  I  sat  down  and  looked  once  more  upon 
the  broad,  magnificent  landscape.  I  was  glad  that  my 
brain,  at  last,  had  become  weary  of  thought  —  that  I  could 
behold  the  sparkle  of  the  river  and  the  vanishing  blue  of 
the  mountains  with  no  more  touch  of  sentiment  or  feeling 
than  the  ox  grazing  beside  me.  I  accepted  my  fortune 
with  an  apathy  which,  it  seemed,  nothing  could  ever  break. 
If  I  could  but  live  thus,  I  said,  seeing  men  as  so  many 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  253 

black  mites  in  the  streets  of  yonder  city,  hearing  only  a 
confused  hum  of  life,  in  which  the  individual  voice  of  every 
passion  is  lost,  and  be  content  myself  with  the  simple 
knowledge  of  my  existence  and  the  sensations  which  be 
long  to  it,  I  might  still  experience  a  certain  amount  of 
happiness. 


254  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IN    WHICH    I    DINE    WITH    MR.  CLARENDON  AND    MAKE    THE 
ACQUAINTANCE    OF    MR.  BRAND  AGEE. 

I  WAS  back  again  at  my  post  before  my  stipulated  leave 
of  absence  had  expired.  Mr.  Clarendon  was  evidently  sur 
prised,  but  not  disagreeably  so,  at  my  unexpected  return, 
and,  when  I  reported  myself  to  him  in  his  private  office, 
asked  me  to  take  a  seat,  —  a  thing  he  had  never  done  since 
my  first  interview.  Beyond  an  occasional  scolding,  varied 
by  a  brief  word  of  commendation,  my  intercourse  with  him 
had  been  very  limited,  but  I  had  acquired  a  profound  re 
spect  both  for  his  character  and  his  judgment. 

After  I  was  seated,  he  laid  down  his  pen,  pushed  the  long 
slips  of  paper  to  one  side,  and  looked  at  me  across  the 
table. 

"  How  old  are  you,  Godfrey  ?  "  he  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"  Just  twenty-one." 

"  So  much  the  better.  You  have  plenty  of  time  yet  to 
find  out  what  you  can  do  best.  Or  are  you  like  most  young 
men  who  can  write  a  little,  and  suppose  that  you  are  capa 
ble  of  everything  ?  " 

"  I  never  supposed  that,"  I  protested. 

"  I  have  looked  through  your  book,"  he  continued.  [I 
had  presented  him  with  a  copy  soon  after  its  publication.] 
"  It  is  about  like  nine-tenths  of  the  poetry  that  is  published 
nowadays,  —  a  good  deal  of  genuine  feeling  and  sentiment, 
but  no  art.  Judging  by  the  degree  of  literary  cultivation 
in  the  public,  —  which  I  have  had  a  fair  opportunity  of 
learning,  —  I  should  think  it  would  be  generally  liked.  But 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  255 

I  don't  want  you  to  be  misled  by  this  fact.  You  have  a 
ready  pen ;  your  talents  are  quick  and  flexible,  and,  with 
proper  schooling,  you  may  become  a  useful  and  successful 
newspaper  writer.  But  I  don't  think  you  will  ever  achieve 
distinction  as  a  poet.  Are  you  not  very  fond  of  reading 
Moore,  Scott,  and  Mrs.  Hemans  ?  " 

I  assented,  with  a  mixture  of  surprise  and  embarrass 
ment.  Mr.  Clarendon's  unfavorable  opinion,  however,  af 
fected  me  much  less  than  it  would  have  done  a  fortnight 
sooner. 

"  Let  me  advise  you,"  he  said,  "  to  drop  those  authors  for 
a  while,  and  carefully  read  Wordsworth.  I  would  not  ask 
you  to  cease  writing,  for  I  know  the  request  would  be  use 
less  ;  and,  except  in  the  way  of  fostering  a  mistaken  am 
bition,  it  can  do  you  no  harm.  Your  prose  style  will  be 
none  the  worse  from  the  greater  compactness  of  thought 
and  the  richer  vocabulary  which  poetry  gives.  Only,"  he 
added,  with  a  smile,  "  pray  keep  the  two  in  separate  boxes. 
It  is  a  great  mistake  to  mix  them  as  some  writers  do." 

I  assured  Mr.  Clarendon  that  I  was  by  no  means  certain 
of  my  vocation  ;  that  the  volume  was  an  experiment,  which 
seemed  to  me  to  be  tolerably  successful,  but  I  did  not  sup 
pose  it  finally  settled  the  question.  I  was  greatly  obliged 
for  his  good  opinion  of  my  talents,  and  would  read  Words 
worth  as  he  recommended.  I  was  then  about  to  withdraw 
from  the  room,  but  he  detained  me  a  moment  longer. 

"  I  am  going  to  propose  a  change  in  your  duties,"  he  said. 
"  You  are  now  familiar  with  the  composition  of  a  newspaper, 
and  can  do  better  service,  I  think,  in  the  City  Department. 
It  is  not  so  mechanical  as  your  former  work,  —  requires 
quickness,  correctness,  and  a  sprightly  style.  You  will  be 
much  out-of-doors,  of  course,  and  you  may  find  it  a  little 
harassing  at  the  start.  But  there  will  be  an  increase  of 
salary,  and  you  must  expect  to  earn  it." 

I  willingly  accepted  the  proposal,  for,  to  be  candid,  I  was 
getting  tired  of  the  monotony  of  "  condensing  the  miscella- 


256  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

neons."  The  increase  of  my  salary  to  fifteen  dollars  a  week 
was  also  welcome.  My  satisfaction  in  saving  a  portion 
of  my  earnings  was  gone,  but  a  gloomier  motive  supplied 
its  place.  It  was  well  to  be  independent  of  the  selfish  race 
of  men,  —  to  work  out  the  proud  and  contemptuous  liberty, 
which  I  proposed  to  myself  as  my  sole  future  aim. 

Mrs.  Very  welcomed  me  back  with  the  empressement  due 
to  a  member  of  her  domestic  circle.  Mr.  Mortimer  shook 
hands  with  me  as  we  went  down  to  dinner,  with  an  air  which 
said,  "  I  admit  your  equality  ;  "  and  Mrs.  Mortimer  bent  her 
neck  some  three  quarters  of  an  inch  more  than  usual,  as 
she  allowed  her  tightly  gloved  hand  to  rest  for  a  second  in 
mine.  Miss  Dunlap  being  absent  on  a  visit  to  her  friends 
in  the  country,  my  seat  fell  next  to  Miss  Tatting,  who  made 
loud  and  particular  inquiries  as  to  how  I  found  my  rela 
tives,  and  was  it  a  nice  part  of  the  country,  and  which  way 
do  you  go  to  get  there,  and  did  the  ladies  come  to  New 
York  to  buy  their  trimmings,  —  all  of  which  I  could  have 
well  spared.  Swansford,  I  could  see,  was  truly  happy  to 
have  me  again  as  his  vis-a-vis,  and  in  spite  of  my  determi 
nation  to  trust  no  human  being,  I  could  not  help  acknowl 
edging  that  he  really  seemed  to  think  himself  my  friend. 
When  we  had  talked  for  an  hour  or  two,  in  the  attic,  I  was 
almost  sure  that  he  was,  and  that  I  was  his.  The  numb, 
steady  ache  of  my  wounds  was  beginning  to  tire  me ;  I 
longed  to  cry  out,  even  though  I  were  heard. 

It  was  a  still,  sultry  evening.  We  sat  together  at  the 
window  until  the  stars  came  out,  and  looked  down  on  the 
felt  partitions  between  the  back-yards,  and  the  mosquitoes 
began  to  rise  from  a  neighboring  rain-water  cistern.  Swans- 
ford  had  played  to  me  his  last  composition,  —  something  in 
the  minor  key,  as  usual,  —  and  I  felt  the  hardness  and  cold 
ness  of  my  mood  give  way. 

"  Come,  old  fellow,"  I  said,  "  I  am  five  dollars  a  week 
richer  than  I  was.  Let  us  go  out  and  baptize  the  circum 
stance." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  257 

He  was  quite  ready  to  join  me.  He  had  a  pinched  and 
hungry  look ;  Mrs.  Very's  provender  was  not  adapted  to. 
his  delicate  taste,  and  there  were  days  when  he  scarcely  ate 
enough  to  support  life.  We  walked  up  the  Bowery,  arm 
in  arm,  crossed  through  Grand  Street  to  Broadway,  and 
finally  descended  into  a  glittering  cellar  under  the  Metro 
politan  Hotel.  I  had  resolved  to  be  as  splendid  as  pos 
sible.  It  was  not  long  before  we  were  installed  in  a  little 
room,  as  white  and  bright  as  paint  and  gas  could  make  it, 
with  dishes  of  soft-shell  crabs  and  lettuce  before  us,  and  a 
bottle  of  champagne,  in  ice,  on  the  floor. 

I  had  a  presentiment  that  I  should  tell  Swansford  every 
thing,  and  I  did.  But  it  was  not  until  the  crabs  and  lettuce 
had  disappeared,  and  an  additional  half-bottle  found  its  way 
to  the  cooler.  I  had  no  fault  to  find  with  his  sympathy. 
He  echoed  my  bitterest  denunciations  of  the  treachery  and 
selfishness  of  men,  but  would  not  quite  admit  the  utter 
falsehood  of  women,  nor,  moreover,  my  claim  to  be  con 
sidered  the  most  wronged  of  human  beings. 

"  What  can  be  worse  ?  "  I  cried,  quite  reckless  whether 
or  not  my  voice  was  heard  in  the  neighboring  stalls.  "  Can 
you  tell  me  of  any  harder  blow  than  that  ?  I  don't  believe 
it!" 

There  were  tears  of  outraged  love  in  my  eyes,  and  his 
seemed  to  be  filling  too.  He  shook  his  head  mournfully, 
and  said,  "  Yes,  ^Godfrey,  there  is  a  worse  fate  than  yours. 
Your  contempt  for  her  will  soon  heal  your  love :  but  think, 
now,  if  she  were  true,  if  she  were  all  of  womanly  purity  and 
sweetness  that  you  ever  dreamed  her  to  be,  if  you  knew  that 
she  could  never  love  but  yourself,  —  and  then,  if  she  were 
forced  by  her  heartless  family  to  marry  another  !  Think 
what  it  would  be  to  know  her,  day  and  night,  given  to  him, 
—  to  still  believe  that  her  heart  turned  to  you  as  yours  to 
her, —  to  add  endless  pity  and  endless  agony  to  the  yearn 
ing  of  love ! " 

His  hands  were  tightly  clasped  on  the  table  before  him, 
17 


258  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

and  the  tears  were  running  down  his  thin  cheeks  as  he 
spoke.  I  knew  his  story  now,  and  my  pity  for  his  suffer 
ings  beguiled  me  into  semi-forgetfulness  of  my  own.  I  was 
unable  to  speak,  but  stretched  out  my  hand  and  grasped 
his.  Our  palms  met  in  a  close,  convulsive  pressure,  and 
we  knew  that  we  were  thenceforth  friends. 

The  next  day  I  was  both  surprised  and  flattered  on 
receiving  an  invitation  to  dine  with  Mr.  Clarendon.  Mr. 
Severn,  who  shared  the  honor,  stated  to  me  confidentially, 
"  He  would  n't  have  done  it,  if  he  did  n't  look  upon  you  as 
one  of  our  stock  workers."  It  was  one  of  his  Wonder  din 
ners,  as  they  were  called,  embracing  only  gentlemen  con 
nected  in  some  way  with  the  paper.  He  was  in  the  habit 
of  giving  three  or  four  every  year,  —  a  large  anniversary 
dinner  in  the  winter,  and  smaller  ones  at  intervals  of  three 
months.  Mr.  Horrocks,  the  chief  editor  of  the  Avenger, 
gave  similar  entertainments  to  his  subordinates,  and  there 
was  a  standing  dispute  between  them  and  us  of  the  Wonder 
as  to  which  gentleman  had  the  honor  of  originating  the 
custom. 

I  dressed  myself  in  my  best  to  do  fitting  honor  to  the 
occasion,  and  punctually  as  the  clock  struck  six  rang  the 
bell  of  Mr.  Clarendon's  door,  on  Washington  Square.  A 
mulatto  gentleman,  with  a  dress-coat  rather  finer  than  my 
own,  ushered  me  into  the  drawing-room,  which  was  empty. 
Mr.  Clarendon,  however,  immediately  made  his  appearance 
and  received  me  with  great  heartiness  of  manner.  He  had 
entirely  put  off  his  official  fixity  of  face  and  abruptness  of 
speech,  and  I  hardly  knew  him  in  his  new  character  of  the 
amiable,  genial  host. 

"  We  shall  have  but  few  guests  to-day,"  he  said,  "  as  my 
family  leaves  for  Newport  next  week.  Mrs.  Clarendon  and 
my  niece  will  join  us  at  dinner,  and  there  will  be  another 
young  lady,  I  believe.  Mr.  Brandagee  and  yourself  are 
the  only  bachelors,  and  I  must  look  to  you  to  entertain 
them." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  259 

He  smiled  as  he  said  this,  and  I  felt  that  I  ought  to  smile 
and  say  something  polite  in  return ;  but  the  effort,  I  am 
afraid,  must  have  resulted  in  a  dismal  grin.  I  was  not  in  a 
condition  to  sit  down  and  entertain  a  young  lady  with  flip 
pant  and  elegant  nothings.  However,  there  was  already  a 
rustling  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  and  three  ladies 
advanced  towards  us.  First,  Mrs.  Clarendon,  a  ripe,  buxom 
blond  of  forty,  in  dark-blue  silk,  —  altogether  a  cheery 
apparition.  Then  the  niece,  Miss  Weldon,  tall,  slender, 
with  a  long  face,  high  forehead,  black  eyes,  and  smooth, 
dark  hair.  She  had  the  air  .of  a  daughter,  which  I  presume 
she  was,  by  adoption.  Mr.  Clarendon  had  but  one  child, 
a  son,  who  was  then  at  Harvard.  Miss  Weldon's  friend,  as 
I  judged  her  to  be,  was  a  Miss  Haworth  (I  think  that  was 
the  name  —  I  know  it  reminded  me  of  Mary  Chaworth),  a 
quiet  creature,  with  violet  eyes,  and  light  hair,  rippled  on 
the  temples.  Her  face  seemed  singularly  familiar  to  me, 
and  yet  I  knew  I  had  never  seen  her  before.  I  mutely 
bowed  to  both  the  young  ladies,  and  then  turned  to  answer 
a  remark  of  Mrs.  Clarendon,  inwardly  rejoicing  that  she 
had  saved  me  from  them. 

Mr.  Severn  presently  entered,  carrying  his  unhappy  face 
even  to  the  festive  board.  He  had  the  air  of  being,  as  he 
perhaps  was,  permanently  overworked,  and  was  afflicted 
with  the  habit,  which  he  exercised  unconsciously,  of  fre 
quently  putting  his  hand  on  his  side  and  heaving  a  deep 
sigh.  Yet  he  was  a  shrewd,  intelligent  fellow,  and,  although 
usually  a  languid,  hesitating  talker,  there  were  accidental 
moments  when  he  flashed  into  respectable  brilliancy.  After 
the  greetings  were  over,  I  was  glad  to  see  that  he  addressed 
himself  to  the  niece,  leaving  Mrs.  Clarendon  to  me. 

It  was  a  quarter  past  six,  and  Mr.  Clarendon  began  to 
show  signs  of  impatience.  "  Withering  stays,"  said  he  to 
his  wife ;  "  as  for  Brandagee,  I  should  not  much  wonder  if 
he  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  He  seems  to  have  the  run 
of  a  great  many  houses." 


260  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

A  violent  ringing  of  the  bell  followed  his  words,  and  the 
two  delinquents  entered  together.  I  already  knew  Mr. 
Withering,  and  felt  grateful  to  him  for  his  kindly  notice  of 
my  volume,  but  he  was  not  otherwise  attractive  to  me.  He 
was  a  man  of  thirty-six,  with  a  prematurely  dry,  solemn  air. 
He  wore  a  full,  dark-brown  beard,  and  his  thick  hair  was 
parted  in  the  middle,  so  as  to  hide  two  curious  knobs  on  his 
temples.  I  used  to  wonder  what  Miss  Hitchcock  would 
predict  from  those  organs:  I  was  sure  there  were  no 
bumps  of  the  kind  on  my  own  skull.  Perhaps  they  repre 
sented  the  critical  faculty,  for  Mr.  Withering  never  wrote 
anything  but  notices  of  books.  He  read  all  the  English 
reviews,  and  was  quite  a  cyclopaedia  of  certain  kinds  of 
information ;  but,  somehow,  a  book,  in  passing  through  his 
alembic,  seemed  to  exhale  its  finer  aroma,  to  part  with  its 
succulent  juices,  and  become  more  or  less  mummified. 
Names,  at  the  sound  of  which  I  felt  inclined  to  bow  the 
knee,  rattled  from  his  tongue  as  dryly  as  salts  and  acids 
from  a  chemk  :'s,  and  I  never  conversed  with  him  without 
feeling  that  my  imaginative  barometer  had  fallen  several 
degrees. 

Mr.  Brandagee  was  barely  known  to  me  by  name.  He 
was  the  author  of  several  dashing  musical  articles,  which 
had  been  published  in  the  Wonder,  during  the  opera  season, 
and  had  created  a  temporary  sensation.  Since  then  he  had 
assailed  Mr.  Bellows,  the1  great  tragedian,  in  several  sketch 
es  characterized  rather  by  wit  and  impertinence  than  pro 
found  dramatic  criticism :  but  everybody  read  and  enjoyed 
them  none  the  less.  He  was  said  to  be  the  scion  of  a  rich 
and  aristocratic  family  in  New-Haven,  had  passed  through 
college  with  high  honors,  and  afterwards  spent  several 
years  and  a  moderate  fortune  in  rambling  all  over  Europe 
and  the  East.  He  had  now  adopted  journalism,  it  was 
reported,  as  an  easy  mode  of  making  his  tastes  and  his 
talents  support  him  in  such  splendor  as  was  still  possible. 

He  made  his  salutations  with  a  jolly  self-possession  —  a 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  261 

noisy,  flashy  glitter  of  sentences  —  which  quite  threw  the 
rest  of  us  into  the  shade.  The  ladies,  I  saw,  were  specially 
interested  in  making  his  acquaintance.  When  dinner  was 
announced,  he  carried  off  Mrs.  Clarendon,  without  waiting 
for  the  host's  beckon  or  looking  behind  him.  Mr.  With 
ering  followed  with  Miss  Weldon,  and  then  Mr.  Clarendon 
offered  his  arm  to  Miss  Haworth.  Severn,  pressing  his 
side,  and  heaving  profound  sighs,  brought  up  the  rear  with 
me.  I  hastened  to  take  the  unoccupied  seat  at  Mrs.  Clar 
endon's  left  hand,  though  it  did  not  properly  belong  to  me. 
The  lady  was  too  well-bred  even  to  look  her  dissatisfaction, 
and  Mr.  Withering  was  thus  interposed  between  me  and 
the  niece. 

My  share  of  the  entertainment  was  easily  performed. 
Mr.  Brandagee,  on  the  opposite  side,  monopolized  the  con 
versation  from  the  start,  and  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  look 
and  listen,  in  the  intervals  of  the  dinner.  The  man's  face 
interested  me  profoundly.  It  was  not  handsome,  it  could 
hardly  be  called  intellectual,  it  was  very  irregular :  I  could 
almost  say  that  it  was  disagreeable,  and  yet,  it  was  so 
mobile,  it  ran  so  rapidly  through  striking  contrasts  of 
expression,  and  was  so  informed  with  a  restless,  dazzling 
life,  that  I  could  not  turn  my  eyes  away  from  it.  His  fore 
head  was  sloping,  narrowing  rapidly  from  the  temples  down 
to  the  brows,  his  eyes  dark-gray  and  deeply  set,  and  his 
nose  very  long  and  straight,  the  nostrils  cut  back  sharply 
on  either  side,  like  the  barbs  of  an  arrow.  His  upper  lip 
was  very  short,  and  broken  in  from  the  line  of  his  profile, 
as  if  he  had  been  kicked  there  by  a  horse  when  a  child. 
It  was  covered  with  a  moustache  no  thicker  than  an  eye 
brow,  —  short,  stubby  hairs,  that  seemed  to  resist  growth, 
and  resembled,  at  a  little  distance,  a  coarse  black  powder. 
The  under  lip  and  chin,  on  the  contrary,  projected  consid 
erably,  and  the  latter  feature  terminated  in  a  goat-like  tuft 
of  hair.  His  cheeks  were  almost  bare  of  beard.  When 
he  spoke  slowly,  his  voice  seemed  to  catch  somewhere  in 


262  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

the  upper  jaw  and  be  diverted  through  his  nose,  but  as  he 
became  lively  and  spirited  in  conversation,  it  grew  clear 
and  shrill.  It  was  not  an  agreeable  voice  :  the  deep,  mel 
low  chest-notes  were  wanting. 

The  impression  he  made  upon  me  was  just  the  reverse 
of  what  I  had  felt  on  first  meeting  Penrose.  The  latter  re 
pelled  me,  in  spite  of  the  strong  attraction  of  his  beauty ; 
but  Mr.  Brandagee  repelled  me  in  every  feature,  yet  at  the 
same  time  drew  me  towards  him  with  a  singular  fascination. 
His  language  was  bold,  brilliant,  full  of  startling  paradoxes 
and  unexpected  grotesquenesses  of  fancy ;  withal,  he  was 
so  agile  and  adroit  of  fence  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  pin  him  except  by  weapons  similar  to  his  own.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  Mr.  Clarendon  at  once  admired  and 
disliked  him.  The  ladies,  however,  were  evidently  capti 
vated  by  his  brilliancy,  and  helped  him  to  monopolize  the 
attention  of  the  table. 

He  had  just  completed  a  very  witty  and  amusing  de 
scription  of  Alexandre  Dumas,  and  there  was  a  lull  in  the 
talk,  while  a  wonderful  mayonnaise  was  brought  upon  the 
table,  when  Miss  Weldon,  bending  around  Mr.  Withering, 
addressed  him  with,  — 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Brandagee,  did  you  ever  hear  Rubini  ?  " 

"  I  did"  said  he.  "  Not  on  the  stage.  I  'm  hardly  old 
enough  for  that,  if  you  please.  But  when  I  was  living  in 
Turin,  I  called  one  evening  on  my  old  friend,  Silvio  Pel- 
lico,  and  found  him  dressed  to  go  out.  Now  I  knew  that 
he  lived  like  a  hermit,  —  I  had  never  seen  him  before  in 
swallow-tails,  —  so  I  started  back  and  said,  ' cos'  e  ?  '  'To 
Count  Arrivamale's,'  says  he,  '  and  only  for  Rubini's  sake/ 
<  Will  Rubini  be  there  ?  '  I  yelled ;  '  hold  on  a  minute  ! '  I 
took  the  first  fiacre  I  could  find,  gave  the  fellow  five  lire 
extra,  galloped  home  and  jumped  into  my  conventionalities, 
snatched  up  Silvio,  and  off  we  drove  to  Arrivamale's  to 
gether.  True  enough,  Rubini  was  there,  old  and  well  pre 
served,  but  he  sang  —  and  I  heard  him ! " 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  263 

"  What  did  you  think  of  his  singing  ?  "  asked  the  de 
lighted  Miss  Weldon. 

"All  fioriture.  The  voice  was  in  rags  and  tatters,  but 
the  method  was  there.  You  know  how  Benedetti  sings  the 
finale  of  Lucia  ?  —  lifting  up  his  fists  and  carrying  the  sos- 
tenuto  the  whole  breadth  of  the  stage  ;  —  well,  Hubini 
would  have  kept  it  dancing  up  and  down,  and  whirling 
round  and  round,  like  a  juggler  with  four  brass  balls  in  the 
air.  That  was  what  he  sang,  and  I  shall  never  forget  the 
beir  alma  innamora-ha-ha-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-ah-ha-ha-ta  !  " 

There  was  a  general  shout  of  laughter  at  this  burlesque 
imitation  of  poor  Rubini,  which  Mr.  Brandagee  gave  in  a 
cracked  falsetto.  There  seemed  to  be  no  end  to  his  accom 
plishments.  After  taking  a  fork-full  of  the  mayonnaise,  he 
turned  to  Mrs.  Clarendon  with  an  enthusiastic  face,  ex 
claiming,  "  Admirable  !  I  congratulate  you  on  your  cook  ; 
or  is  Mr.  Clarendon  himself  the  author  ?  It  is  a  part  of 
my  credo  that  the  composition  of  a  salad  requires  a  high 
order  of  intellect,  as  well  as  character,  tact,  and  the  instincts 
of  a  gentleman.  Horace,  Cervantes,  and  Shakspeare  would 
have  been  good  hands  at  it ;  St.  Paul  would  have  done  it 
splendidly  ! " 

In  spite  of  what  had  gone  before,  I  was  startled  and 
shocked  at  this,  and  I  believe  Mrs.  Clarendon  did  not  like 
the  irreverence.  But  Mr.  Brandagee  rattled  on  without 
regarding  her,  —  "  It  is  n't  modest  in  me  to  proclaim  my 
own  skill,  but,  then,  nobody  ever  accused  me  of  modesty. 
Modesty  is  an  inconvenient  article  for  gentlemen's  use.  I 
am  prouder  of  my  triumph  at  the  Trois  Freres  than  of  any 
thing  else  in  my  life.  There  were  only  three  of  us,  —  Paul 
de  Kock  and  poor  Alfred  de  Musset.  When  we  came  to  the 
salad  I  saw  their  eyes  sparkle  ;  so  much  the  better  —  I  had 
planned  a  surprise.  So  I  picked  up  the  dish,  turned  it 
around,  smelled  it  suspiciously,  pulled  it  about  a  little  with 
a  fork,  and  then  said  to  the  garyon,  '  otez  $  a  !  '  I  wish 
you  could  have  seen  their  faces ;  I  am  sure  De  Kock 


264  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

ground  (  barbare  !  '  between  his  teeth.  But  I  promised  to 
give  them  a  substitute,  started  them  on  their  old,  everlast 
ing  dispute  about  the  battle  of  Zara,  —  one  maintained  that 
there  had  been  such  a  battle,  and  the  other  that  there  had 
n't,  —  got  the  ingredients  I  wanted,  and  set  to  work.  They 
were  hard  at  it,  throwing  Barbarossa  and  Dandolo,  and  1 
don't  know  who  else,  across  the  table  at  each  other's  heads, 
when  I  put  their  plates  before  them  and  said,  i  essayez  f ' 
Each  of  them  made  a  grimace,  and  took  a  little  morsel 
with  an  air  of  suspicion.  When  they  had  fairly  tasted  it, 
they  looked  at  each  other  for  a  full  minute  without  saying 
a  word.  Then  De  Kock  drew  a  long  breath  and  cried  out, 
'  incroyaUe  !  '  and  De  Musset  answered,  '  enorme  !  '  We 
shook  hands  all  around,  with  tears  in  our  eyes,  and  always 
tutoyed  each  other  from  that  very  night.  Poor  De  Mus 
set!" 

After  the  ladies  had  withdrawn,  cigars  were  brought  on 
the  table.  Mr.  Clarendon,  I  noticed,  did  not  smoke,  and  I 
thought  he  seemed  pleased  that  I  followed  his  example. 
Mr.  Severn  and  Mr.  Withering  puffed  their  cigars  deli 
cately  and  cautiously,  and  drew  nearer  to  their  chief,  while 
Mr.  Brandagee,  blowing  a  great  cloud,  poured  out  a  glass 
of  claret  and  then  pushed  the  decanter  across  to  me. 

"  They  are  talking  over  Wonder  matters,"  he  said,  taking 
Mrs.  Clarendon's  chair.  "  That  is  very  fair  Lafitte  ;  try  it. 
But  I  prefer  Clos-Vougeot  after  dinner." 

I  took  a  glass  of  the  wine  rather  than  confess  my  igno 
rance  of  the  proper  thing,  in  the  presence  of  such  an  au 
thority. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  asked,  "  are  you  the  Mr.  Godfrey  who 
has  just  published  a  volume  of  poems  ?  I  read  Wither- 
ing's  notice  of  it ;  I  wish  you  would  send  me  a  copy." 

I  gratefully  promised  to  comply. 

''  I  think  we  all  begin  in  that  way.  I  published,  in  my 
senior  year,  'Alcibiades  at  Syracuse  ; '  —  don't  say  you  've 
heard  of  it,  because  I  know  you  have  n't.  I  have  not  seen 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  265 

the  thing  for  ten  years,  but  I  dare  say  it 's  insufferable 
trash.  Poetry  does  n't  pay.  Do  you  know  there  are  not 
six  poets  in  the  world  who  could  live  on  the  profits  of  their 
verses  ? " 

"  But  it  is  not  money  alone,"  —  I  began,  and  then 
stopped,  seeing  the  ends  of  his  projecting  under-lip  curl 
around  the  ends  of  the  short  upper  one,  in  a  peculiar, 
mocking  smile.  I  felt  instantly  how  green  and  senti 
mental  I  must  appear  in  his  experienced  eyes. 

"  I  know  all  you  were  going  to  say,"  he  remarked,  no 
ticing  my  silence.  "  I  was  tarred  with  the  same  brush,  ages 
ago.  It 's  pretty  well  scrubbed  out  of  me,  but  I  recognize 
the  smell.  You  believe  in  fame,  in  a  sort  of  profane  com 
ing-down  of  the  fiery  tongues,  don't  you  ?  You  've  been 
anointed,  and  shampooed,  and  brushed,  and  combed  by 
some  barber- Apollo,  for  an  elegant  '  mission,'  have  n't  you  ? 
And  the  unwashed  and  uncombed  multitude  will  turn  up 
their  noses  and  scent  you  afar  off,  and  say  to  each  other, 
1  Let  us  stand  aside  that  The  Poet  may  pass  ! ' " 

I  was  too  dazzled  by  the  grotesque  fancy  of  the  image  to 
feel  much  hurt  %  its  irony.  On  the  contrary,  I  was  curi 
ous  to  know  what  a  man,  whose  youth,  he  confessed,  had 
known  dreams  similar  to  mine,  now  thought  of  Literature 
and  of  Life,  after  such  a  large  experience  of  both.  I 
therefore  laughed,  and  said,  "  I  don't  expect  any  such  rec 
ognition  as  that ;  —  but  is  it  not  better  to  have  some  faith 
in  the  work  you  undertake  ?  Could  any  one  be  a  good  poet 
who  despised  his  mission,  instead  of  believing  in  it  ?  " 

"  The  greatest  poet  of  this  generation,"  he  said,  "  is 
Heine,  who  is  n't  afraid  to  satirize  himself,  —  who  treats  his 
poetic  faculty  very  much  as  Swift  treated  Celia.  The  mis 
sion,  and  the  anointing,  and  all  that,  are  pleasant  supersti 
tions,  I  admit ;  but  one  can't  live  in  the  world  and  hold  on 
to  them.  The  man  who  is  n't  afraid  to  look  at  the  naked 
truth,  under  all  this  surface  flummery,  is  the  master.  You 
believe,  I  suppose,  that  all  men  are  naturally  kind,  and 


266  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

good,  and  honest,  —  that  politicians  are  pure  patriots,  and 
clergymen  are  saints,  and  merchants  never  take  advantage 
of  each  other's  necessities,  —  that  all  married  couples  love 
each  other,  and  all  young  lovers  will  be  true  till  death  "  — 

I  could  not  bear  this.  My  blood  was  up,  and  I  inter 
rupted  him  with  a  passionate  earnestness  which  contrasted 
strangely  with  the  cold-blooded,  negligent  cynicism  of  his 
manner. 

"  I  am  not  quite  such  a  fool  as  that,"  I  said.  "  I  believe 
that  men,  and  women  too,  are  naturally  selfish  and  bad.  I 
have  no  particular  respect  for  them ;  and  if  I  should  desire 
fame,  it  would  only  be  for  the  sake  of  making  them  respect 
me." 

He  looked  at  me  more  attentively  than  before,  and  I  felt 
that  his  keen  gray  eyes  were  beginning  to  spy  out  my  se 
cret  wound.  I  took  another  sip  of  the  claret,  in  the  hope 
of  turning  aside  his  scrutiny.  This  movement,  also,  he 
seemed  to  understand,  but  could  not  resist  imitating  it.  He 
filled  his  glass,  emptied  it,  and  then  turned  to  me  with,  — 

"  So,  you  would  like  to  be  respected  by  those  for  whom 
you  have  no  respect.  What  satisfaction  is  there  in  that  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  I  know,"  I  answered ;  "  but  if  they  honored 
me  for  saying  what  I  feel  to  be  true  and  good,  I  should 
think  better  of  them." 

"  Ho,  ho !  That 's  it,  is  it  ?  Your  logic  is  equal  to  the 
puzzle  of  Epirnenides  and  the  Cretans.  You  despise  men ; 
therefore  they  respect  you ;  therefore  you  respect  them. 
I  should  n't  wonder  if  you  had  gone  through  the  converse 
experience,  to  arrive  at  such  a  conclusion." 

I  was  quite  bewildered  by  his  rapid,  flashy  sentences,  and 
knew  not  how  to  reply.  Besides,  I  saw  how  keenly  he 
tracked  my  expressions  back  to  their  source  in  my  life,  and 
made  a  feeble  effort  to  throw  him  off  the  scent. 

"Then  you  don't  think  a  literary  reputation  is  worth 
having?"  I  said. 

"  By  all  means ;  it  is  positive  capital,  in  a  certain  way. 


JOHN    GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  267 

It  makes  publishers  indorse  your  promissory  notes,  opens 
the  doors  of  theatres  and  opera-houses  to  you,  supplies  you 
with  dinners  without  end,  gives  you  the  best  rooms  in  ho 
tels,  —  sometimes  complimentary  passes  on  steamboats  and 
railways ;  in  the  words  of  the  pious,  smooths  the  asperi 
ties  of  this  life,  and  does  you  no  harm  in  the  world  beyond 
the  grave.  I  should  n't  in  the  least  object  to  those  advan 
tages.  But  if  only  the  school-girls  weep  over  my  pages, 
and  pencil  the  words  '  sweet ! '  and  f  beautiful ! '  on  the  mar 
gin,  their  tears  and  their  remarks  won't  butter  my  bread. 
I  'd  rather  sit  on  velvet,  like  Reynolds  the  Great,  propped 
up  by  forty-seven  flash  romances,  than  starve,  like  Burns, 
and  have  the  pilgrims  come  to  kneel  on  my  bones.  Fame 's 
a  great  humbug.  '  Who  hath  it  ?  —  he  that  died  o'  Wednes 
day!'" 

I  was  not  prepared  to  disagree  with  him.  His  words 
gave  direction  to  the  reflux  of  my  feelings  from  their  warm, 
trusting  outflow.  I  acknowledged  the  authority  which  his 
great  knowledge  of  life  conferred ;  and  though  his  hard, 
mocking  tone  still  affected  me  unpleasantly,  I  was  desirous 
to  hear  more  of  views  which  might  one  day  be  my  own. 

"  Then  there  is  no  use  in  having  any  ambition  ?  "  I  re 
marked. 

"  Cela  depend.  If  a  man  feels  the  better  for  it,  let  him 
have  it.  Theophile  Gautier  used  to  say,  there  are  but  three 
divinities  —  Youth,  Wealth,  and  Beauty.  Substitute  Health 
for  Beauty,  and  I  agree  with  him.  I  have  no  beauty ;  — 
I  'm  as  ugly  as  sin,  but  I  don't  find  that  it  makes  any  differ 
ence,  either  with  women  or  men.  Give  me  health  and 
wealth,  and  I  '11  be  as  handsome  as  the  Antinous.  One 
must  get  old  some  day ;  but  even  then,  what  is  given  to 
youth  can  be  bought  for  age.  Hallo !  the  Lafitte  is  out. 
Stretch  down  your  arm  and  get  the  other  decanter.  Severn 
won't  miss  it." 

I  did  as  he  requested,  and  Mr.  Clarendon,  noticing  the 
movement,  got  up  and  took  a  seat  near  me.  "  Brandagee," 


268  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

he  said,  "  I  hope  you  have  not  been  putting  any  mischief 
into  Godfrey's  head." 

"  I  have  none  to  spare,"  he  replied.  "  I  am  keeping  it 
bottled  up  for  my  article  on  Mrs.  Pudge  in  Ophelia.  By- 
the-by,  it 's  nine  o'clock.  I  must  go  down  to  Niblo's  to  see 
her  once  more  in  the  mad  scene.  These  are  capital  Figa 
ros,  Mr.  Clarendon.  I  '11  take  another,  to  give  me  a  start 
on  the  article." 

He  took  six,  went  into  the  drawing-room  to  take  leave 
of  the  ladies,  and  departed. 

"  A  brilliant  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Clarendon,  "  but  spoiled 
by  over-praise  when  young,  and  indulgence  abroad." 

"  He  's  good  company,  though,"  said  Severn. 

As  for  myself,  I  found  myself  mentally  repeating  his 
words,  on  the  way  home.  Youth,  health,  and  wealth  —  was 
he  not  right?  What  else  was  there  to  be  enjoyed, — at 
least  for  me  ? 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  269 


CHAPTEK  XXI. 

IN    WHICH   I   ATTEND    MRS.    YORKTON'S    RECEPTION. 

A  FEW  days  after  the  dinner,  Mr.  Brandagee,  being  in 
the  Wonder  office  to  read  the  proof  of  his  article  on  Mrs. 
Pudge,  came  to  my  desk  and  entered  into  conversation.  I 
had  just  completed  my  graphic  description  of  the  fall, 
death,  and  removal  of  an  omnibus-horse  on  the  slippery 
pavement  of  Broadway  (an  item  afterwards  copied  in  all 
the  country  papers),  and  had  half  an  hour  to  spare,  in  the 
course  of  which  time  quite  a  pleasant  familiarity  was  estab 
lished  between  us.  He  had  looked  over  my  book,  which 
he  pronounced  better  than  "  Alcibiades  at  Syracuse,"  to  the 
best  of  his  recollection.  As  he  was  leaving,  he  said,  — 

"  Do  you  go  to  Mrs.  Yorkton's  on  Friday  evening  ?  " 

«  Mrs.  Yorkton  ?  " 

"Yes  —  the  poetess.  Though  she  mostly  writes  under 
the  signature  of  *  Adeliza  Choate.'  " 

Was  it  possible  ?  Adeliza  Choate,  —  the  rival  of  my 
boyish  ambition,  —  the  sister  of  my  first  poetic  dreams  !  I 
had  always  imagined  her  as  a  lovely,  dark-eyed  girl,  with 
willowy  tresses  and  a  lofty  brow.  And  she  was  Mrs.  York- 
ton,  —  married,  and  giving  receptions  on  Friday  evenings ! 
That  fact  seemed  to  bring  her  down  to  common  earth,  —  to 
obscure  the  romantic  nimbus  in  which  my  fancy  had  envel 
oped  her  form ;  yet  I  none  the  less  experienced  a  violent 
desire  to  see  her. 

"  Oh  ! "  I  exclahned,  "  I  have  read  her  poems,  but  I  do 
not  know  her  personally.  I  should  very  much  like  to  go." 

"  Nothing  easier :  I  '11  take  you.     Friday  night,  remem- 


270  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

ber.  She  lives  in  Fourth  Street,  and  you  may  as  well  call 
at  the  Smithsonian  for  me.  Come  early.  I  had  a  note 
from  her  this  morning,  and  she  wants  me  to  be  there  by 
eight  o'clock,  to  assist  her  in  some  deuce  of  a  mysterious 
arrangement.  She  always  gets  up  some  sentimental  clap 
trap  or  other  — i  to  start  conversation  in  intellectual  chan 
nels,'  she  says.  You  '11  find  all  the  literary  small  fry  on 
hand,  —  Smithers,  Danforth,  Clara  Collady,  and  the  like. 
You  need  n't  dress  particularly,  —  it 's  quite  Bohemian. 
Smithers  always  wears  a  scarlet  cravat,  and  an  old  black 
velvet  coat,  with  half  the  buttons  off." 

This  information  was  rather  attractive  than  otherwise. 
It  denoted  a  proper  scorn  of  conventionalities,  which  I  had 
always  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  attributes  of  genius.  A 
side-door,  at  least,  was  now  opened  for  me  into  the  en 
chanted  circle  which  I  so  longed  to  enter.  The  antici 
pation  of  the  event  diverted  my  mind  from  its  gloomy 
apathy,  and  helped  me  along  more  swiftly  through  the 
weary  days. 

Fortunately,  when  the  evening  arrived,  there  was  no 
moral,  charitable,  political,  or  religious  meeting  to  report,  — 
no  pyrotechnic  display  or  torch-light  procession  to  describe, 
—  and  I  could  venture  to  be  absent  from  the  office  until 
midnight,  at  which  time  I  was  obliged  to  revise  the  fires 
and  accidents.  Notwithstanding  Mr.  Brandagee's  hint  as  to 
costume,  I  put  on  my  evening  dress,  and  sprinkled  my 
handkerchief  with  jockey-club.  Reaching  the  Smithsonian 
at  half-past  seven,  I  found  my  chaperon  in  his  room  on  the 
third  story,  reading  a  volume  of  Balzac,  with  his  feet  on  a 
chair  and  a  mint-julep  at  his  elbow. 

"  By  Jove,  I  forgot ! "  he  exclaimed,  jumping  up.  "  Damn 
Adeliza  Choate  and  the  whole  tribe  !  I  'd  ten  thousand 
times  rather  go  on  with  La  Peau  de  Chagrin.  But  it  won't 
do  to  have  you  get  out  of  your  bandbox  for  nothing,  God 
frey.  Whew  !  You  have  come  from  Araby  the  Blest,  — 
will  you  let  me  'pursue  your  triumph  and  partake  your 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  271 

gale  ? '     Adeliza  will  have  a  sonnet '  To  J.  G.'  in  the  next 
'  Hesperian,'  commencing,  — 

'  On  thine  ambrosial  locks  my  heart  reclines. ' ' ' 

But  he  changed  his  coat  and  brushed  his  black  hair 
while  talking,  and  we  set  out  for  the  eastern  part  of  Fourth 
Street.  The  Yorkton  Mecca  was  a  low  and  somewhat  an 
cient  brick  house,  with  a  green  door  and  window-blinds. 
Heavy,  badly  smelling  ailanthus-trees  in  front  conveniently 
obscured  the  livery-stable  and  engine-house  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street,  and  as  there  happened  to  be  no  fires  at 
the  time,  and  no  carriages  in  requisition,  the  place  had  a 
quiet,  contemplative  air.  The  bell  was  answered  by  a  small 
mulatto-boy,  whose  white  jacket  and  trousers  were  orna 
mented  with  broad  red  stripes  down  the  arms  and  legs, 
giving  him  the  air  of  a  little  yellow  harlequin. 

He  grinned  on  seeing  Mr.  Brandagee,  said,  "  She  's  in 
the  parlor,"  and  threw  open  the  door  thereto. 

Only  one  gas-burner  was  yet  lighted,  but,  as  the  rooms 
were  small,  I  could  very  well  observe  the  light-blue  figure 
which  advanced  to  meet  us.  Heavens  and  earth  !  where 
was  the  lovely  creature  with  dark  eyes  and  willowy  tresses  ? 
I  saw,  to  my  unutterable  surprise,  a  woman  of  forty-five, 
tall,  lean,  with  a  multitude  of  puckers  about  her  yellowish- 
gray  eyes,  and  long  thin  lips.  On  her  faded  brown  hair 
she  wore  a  wreath  of  blue  flowers.  Her  nose  was  aquiline, 
and  her  neck  seemed  to  throw  out  strong  roots  in  the  di 
rection  of  her  shoulders.  As  I  looked  at  the  back  of  it, 
afterwards,  I  could  not  help  thinking  I  saw  a  garland  of 
forget-me-nots  laid  on  the  dry,  mossy  stump  of  a  sapling. 

"  Faithful  friend  !  Fidus  Achates  ! "  (which  she  pro 
nounced  Akkatees,)  she  exclaimed,  holding  out  both  hands 
to  Brandagee.  "  You  are  just  in  time.  Adonis,"  (this  to 
the  striped  mulatto-boy,)  "  light  the  other  burners  ! " 

"  You  know  you  can  always  depend  upon  me,  Adeliza," 
Brandagee  replied,  with  a  side-wink  to  me ;  "  I  consider 


272  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

myself  as  your  jidibus.  Let  me  present  to  you  my  friend, 
Mr.  Godfrey,  whose  name  is  familiar  to  you,  no  doubt,  as 
one  of  our  dawning  bards,  —  '  Leonora's  Dream,  and  Other 
Poems.' " 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  This  is  an  unexpected  acquisition  to 
our  circle  of  choice  spirits.  Mr.  Godfrey  !  I  am  delighted 
to  make  your  acquaintance.  I  have  long  known  and  ad 
mired  your  poetical  self:  we  are  fellow-Hesperians,  you 
know." 

Though  I  was  so  confounded  by  the  reality  of  Adeliza's 
appearance,  I  could  not  help  being  flattered  by  the  warmth 
of  her  reception.  I  glowed  with  gratified  vanity,  as  I  took 
her  offered  hand,  and  said  I  was  very  happy  to  meet  Miss 
Choate,  whose  poems  I  had  read  With  so  much  pleasure. 

Brandagee  burst  into  a  laugh  at  my  blunder,  which  I 
also  perceived,  the  moment  after  it  was  uttered.  Much 
embarrassed,  I  stammered  some  awkward  words  of  apology. 

Mrs.  Yorkton,  however,  was  rather  pleased  than  offended. 

"  No  apology  is  necessary,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  she  said :  "  I 
am  quite  as  accustomed  to  my  poetic  as  to  my  prosaic 
name.  I  adopted  the  former  when  I  first  began  to  write, 
on  account  of  the  prejudice  which  The  Herd  manifests 
when  a  woman's  hand  dares  to  sweep  the  strings  of  the 
Delphic  lyre.  But  the  secret  was  soon  discovered  by  those 
friends  who  knew  my  Inner  Self,  and  they  still  like  to  ad 
dress  me  by  what  they  call  my  '  Parnassian  name.' " 

By  this  time  the  remaining  burners  had  been  lighted, 
and  all  the  features  of  this  bower  of  the  Muses  were  re 
vealed  to  view.  The  furniture  was  well-worn,  and  had  ap 
parently  been  picked  up  piece  by  piece,  without  regard  to 
the  general  -harmony.  Over  the  front  mantelpiece  hung 
a  portrait  in  crayons  of  the  hostess,  with  a  pen  in  her  hand, 
and  her  eyes  uplifted.  On  a  small  table  between  the  win 
dows  stood  a  large  plaster  bust  of  Virgil,  with  a  fresh  wreath 
of  periwinkle  (plucked  from  the  back-yard)  upon  its  head. 
On  the  two  centre-tables  were  laid  volumes  of  poetry,  and 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  273 

some  annuals,  bound  in  blue  and  scarlet  cloth.  The  most 
remarkable  feature  of  the  room,  however,  was  a  series  of 
four  oblong  black-boards,  suspended  like  picture-frames  on 
the  walls,  each  one  bordered  with  a  garland  of  green  leaves. 
Upon  two  of  these  there  were  sentences  written  with  chalk ; 
the  other  two  were  still  empty. 

"  There,  Mr.  Brandagee  ! "  she  exclaimed,  waving  her  thin 
arm  with  an  air  of  triumph  ;  "  that  is  my  idea  for  to-night. 
Don't  you  think  it  suggestive  ?  Instead  of  pictures,  a  preg 
nant  sentence  on  each  of  these  dark  tablets.  It  seems  to 
symbolize  Thought  starting  out  in  white  light  from  the  mid 
night  of  Ignorance.  Words  give  mental  pictures,  you  know, 
and  I  want  to  have  these  filled  up  by  distinguished  masters. 
Come,  and  I  '11  show  you  what  I  have  done  ! " 

She  led  the  way  to  the  farthest  black-board,  stationed 
herself  before  it,  with  Brandagee  on  one  side  and  mysetf 
on  the  other,  and  resumed  her  explanation.  "  This  /  have 
written,"  she  said,  "  not  because  I  could  not  find  any  sen 
tence  adapted  to  the  purpose,  but  because  my  friends  seem 
to  expect  that  I  should  always  offer  them  some  intellectual 
food.  '  Congenial  Spirits  Move  in  Harmonious  Orbits]  — 
how  do  you  like  it  ?  There  must  be  a  great  deal  of  mean 
ing  compressed  into  a  very  few  words,  you  know,  —  oracular, 
suggesting  various  things.  Now,  I  want  to  have  the  same 
thought,  or  a  kindred  one,  in  other  languages,  on  the  other 
boards.  The  next,  you  see,  is  French,  but  I  can't  go  any 
further  without  your  help.  What  do  you  think  of  this  ?  " 

" '  Les  beaux  esprits  se  rencontrent,' "  read  Brandagee. 
"  Very  appropriate,  indeed  !  Not  only  abstractly  true,  but 
complimentary  to  your  guests.  And  you  want  the  same 
thing  in  other  languages,  —  what  languages  ?  " 

"  One  must  be  German,  of  course,"  said  she.  "  Can't 
you  remember  something  from  Schiller,  or  Goeethy,  or 
Rikter?" 

"  I  have  it !  Give  me  the  chalk.  Your  own  Orphic  ut 
terance  reproduced  in  the  immortal  words  of  Goethe !  Did 
18 


274  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

you  know  it  ?  —  the  finest  line  in  '  Faust ' ;  —  what  a  singu 
lar  coincidence  of  genius  ?  " 

Taking  the  chalk  from  the  ready  hand  of  the  delighted 
Mrs.  Yorkton,  Brandagee  wrote  on  the  third  black-board : 
*'  Gleiches  gesellt  sick  gern  mit  Gleichem  !  "  I  understood  the 
words,  and  was  a  little  at  a  loss  to  account  for  his  enthusiasm 
about  them. 

"  Now  for  the  last !  "  said  he.  "  It- must  be  Italian,  Span 
ish,  Swedish,  or  Dutch.  I  might  take  a  line  from  Dante,  — 
'*  Lasciate  ogni  speranzaj  and  so  forth,  but  that  would  be 
too  palpable  to  some  of  the  beaux  esprits.  You  want  some 
thing  more  vague  and  mystical.  Who  is  there,  —  Tegner, 
Calderon,  Lope  de  Vega  ?  —  Calderon  is  best,  and  now  I  re 
call  the  very  sentence  for  you.  There  it  is,  white  on  black : 
'  Cada  oveja  ha  sin pareja'  " 

•  "  It  has  a  lovely  sound,"  she  murmured ;  "  what  is  the 
meaning  ?  " 

"  Something  like  this,"  he  answered ;  " '  No  gentle  creat 
ure  is  condemned  to  solitude,'  "  —  but  he  afterwards  whis 
pered  to  me  that  the  sentence  actually  read :  "  Every  sheep 
has  its  fellow." 

Mrs.  Yorkton  grasped  his  hands  with  gratitude,  and  twice 
made  the  circuit  of  the  rooms  to  inspect,  with  radiant  sat 
isfaction,  her  suggestive  mental  pictures.  Then,  as  Bran 
dagee  had  flung  himself  into  a  chair,  and  was  tossing  over 
the  leaves  of  the  annuals,  she  invited  me  to  take  a  seat  be 
side  her  on  the  sofa. 

"  Tell  me  now,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  said  she,  "  what  is  your 
usual  process  of  composition  ?  I  don't  mean  the  fine  frenzy, 
because  all  poets  must  have  that,  of  course ;  but  how  do 
you  write,  and  when  do  you  find  the  combination  of  influ 
ences  most  favorable  ?  It  is  a  subject  which  interests  me 
greatly ;  my  own  temperament  is  so  peculiar.  Indeed, 
I  have  found  no  one  upon  whom  the  Inspiration  seizes 
with  such  power.  Does  it  visit  you  in  the  garish  light 
of  day,  or  only  awake  beneath  the  stars?  Must  you 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  275 

wear  a  loose  dressing-gown,  like  Mr.  Danforth,  or  is  your 
Muse  not  impeded  by  the  restraints  of  dress  ?  " 

I  scarcely  knew  what  answer  to  make  to  these  questions. 
In  fact,  I  began  strongly  to  suspect  that  I  was  no  poet. 
I  had  never  supposed  that  any  particular  time  or  costume 
was  required  for  the  exercise  of  the  faculty,  —  had  never 
thought  of  instituting  a  series  of  observations  upon  myself, 
for  the  purpose  of  determining  what  conditions  were  most 
favorable. 

"  I  am  really  unable  to  say,"  I  answered.  "  I  have  always 
been  in  the  habit  of  writing  whenever  I  felt  that  I  had  a 
good  subject,  whether  by  day  or  night." 

"  How  fortunate  ! "  she  exclaimed ;  "  how  I  envy  you ! 
Your  physique  enables  you  to  do  it ;  but  with  my  sensitive 
frame,  it  would  be  impossible.  I  feel  the  approach  of  In 
spiration  in  every  nerve  ;  —  my  husband  often  tells  me 
that  he  knows  beforehand  when  I  am  going  to  write,  my 
eyes  shine  so.  Then  I  go  up-stairs  to  my  study,  which  is 
next  to  my  bedroom.  It  always  comes  on  about  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  wind  blows  from  the 
south.  I  change  my  dress,  and  put  on  a  long  white  gown, 
which  I  wear  at  no  other  time,  take  off  my  stays,  and  let 
my  hair  down  my  back.  Then  I  prance  up  and  down  the 
room  as  if  I  was  possessed,  and  as  the  lines  come  to  me 
I  dash  them  on  the  black-board,  one  after  another,  and  chant 
them  in  a  loud  voice.  Sometimes  I  cover  all  four  of  the 
boards  —  both  sides  —  before  the  Inspiration  leaves  me. 
The  frail  Body  is  overcome  by  the  excitement  of  the  Soul, 
and  at  night  my  husband  often  finds  me  lying  on  the  floor 
in  the  middle  of  the  room,  panting  —  panting !  " 

She  gave  this  information  in  so  wild  and  excited  a  man 
ner,  flapping  her  hands  up  and  down  before  her  to  illus 
trate  the  operation  of  prancing,  hurling  forth  one  arm,  and 
making  a  convulsive,  tremulous  line  in  the  air  with  her 
closed  fingers  when  she  came  to  dashing  the  words  on  the 
black-board,  and  panting  so  very  literally  at  the  close,  that 


276  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

I  began  to  be  alarmed  lest  the  Inspiration  was  approaching. 
I  looked  at  her  head,  and  was  reassured  on  finding  that  the 
forget-me-nots  still  crowned  it,  and  that  her  hair  was  not 
coming  down  behind. 

"  I  should  think  it  must  be  very  exhausting,"  I  ventured 
to  remark. 

"  Killing !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  energy.  "  I  am  obliged 
to  take  restoratives  and  stimulants,  after  one  of  these  visits. 
It  would  n't  be  safe  for  me  to  have  a  penknife  in  the  room, 
—  or  a  pair  of  scissors,  —  or  a  sharp  paper-cutter,  —  while 
the  frenzy  is  on  me.  I  might  injure  myself  before  I  knew 
it.  But  it  would  be  a  sweet,  a  fitting  death.  If  it  ever 
comes,  Mr.  Godfrey,  you  must  write  my  thanatopsis ! " 

Here  Brandagee,  sitting  at  the  table  with  his  back  to  us, 
startled  us  by  bursting  into  the  most  violent  laughter.  Mrs. 
Yorkton  evidently  did  not  find  the  interruption  agreeable. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  stiff  voice. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  these  things  of  Mrs.  Mallard.  I  have 
just  been  turning  over  the  '  Female  Poets.'  The  editor 
has  given  her  ten  pages.  I  wonder  what  she  paid  him ; 
there  must  have  been  an  equivalent." 

"Ten  pages,  indeed!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Yorkton,  with 
bitterness,  "  and  barely  three  for  me !  That  is  the  way 
literature  is  encouraged.  How  anybody  can  find  the  traces 
of  Inspiration  in  Mrs.  Mallard's  machinery  —  I  won't  call 
it  poetry  —  I  cannot  comprehend.  I  am  told,  Mr.  Bran 
dagee,  that  she  has  become  very  spiteful,  since  my  recep 
tions  have  made  a  noise  in  the  literary  world." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it.  Detraction  and  Envy  are  the  inevi 
table  attendants  of  Genius.  But  the  Eagle  should  not  be 
annoyed  at  the  hostile  gyrations  of  the  Vulture." 

"  What  grand  dashes  of  thought  you  strike  out ! "  she 
cried,  in  an  excess  of  delight  and  admiration.  "  That  image 
would  close  a  sonnet  so  finely.  If  it  should  return  to  my 
mind,  hereafter,  in  some  Inspired  Moment,  you  will  know 
whose  hand  planted  the  Seeds  of  Song." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  277 

"  You  don't  know  what  a  poet  I  am  ! "  he  said,  in  his 
mocking  way.  "  If  I  dared  to  write.  Dr.  Brown-Sequard 
said  to  me  one  day,  in  Paris,  when  he  was '  attending  me 
for  the  rupture  of  a  blood-vessel,  caused  by  writing  a  poem 
on  hearing  a  nightingale  singing  in  Rue  Notre  Dame  de 
Lorette,  —  said  he,  '  Brandagee,  my  boy,  avoid  these  exal 
tations,  if  you  don't  want  to  bring  up  at  Pere  la  Chaise  or 
Charenton.  Your  nature  is  over-balanced  :  you  must  drop 
the  spiritual  and  cultivate  the  animal.'  It  was  a  hard  sen 
tence  :  but  I  wanted  to  live,  and  I  was  forced  to  obey." 

He  heaved  a  deep  sigh,  which  was  echoed,  in  all  serious 
ness,  by  Mrs.  Yorkton.  I  admired  the  amazing  command 
of  face  and  manner,  which  enabled  him  to  perpetrate  such 
barefaced  irony,  without  exciting  her  suspicion.  It  was 
evident  that  she  both  believed  and  admired  him. 

The  arrival  of  guests  interrupted  the  conversation.  Two 
gentlemen  and  a  lady  entered  the  room.  I  recognized 
Mr.  Smithers  at  once,  by  the  scarlet  cravat  and  velvet 
coat;  the  others,  as  Mrs.  Yorkton  whispered  before  pre 
senting  me,  were  "  appreciative  sympathizers,  not  authors." 
The  black-board  answered  their  purpose  by  furnishing 
immediate  subjects  for  talk,  and  I  got  on  very  well  with 
the  appreciative  sympathizers.  Presently  Mr.  Danforth 
arrived,  escorting  Clara  Collady,  and  followed  by  Mr.  Blue- 
bit,  a  sculptor,  and  Mr.  S.  Mears,  a  painter.  Brandagee 
persisted  in  calling  the  latter  "  Smears."  I  looked  curiously 
at  the  gentleman  who  could  only  write  in  a  loose  dressing- 
gown,  and  found  the  peculiarity  intelligible,  supposing  he 
usually  went  as  tightly  clad  as  at  present.  His  coat  was 
buttoned  so  that  there  were  horizontal  creases  around  the 
waist,  and  the  seams  were  almost  starting,  and  it  seemed 
impossible  for  him  to  bend  forward  his  head  without  hav 
ing  respiration  suspended  by  his  cravat.  Whenever  he 
nodded  in  conversation,  his  whole  body,  from  the  hips 
upward,  shared  the  movement. 

Clara  Collady  was  a  dumpy  person  of  twenty-eight  or 


278         JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

thirty,  with  a  cheerful  face  and  lively  little  black  eyes. 
I  sought  an  introduction  to  her,  and  soon  found  that  we 
were  mutually  ignorant  of  each  other's  works.  I  was  sur 
prised  to  learn  that  her  name  was  genuine  and  not  "  Par 
nassian."  She  was  disposed  to  enjoy  the  society  without 
criticizing  its  separate  members,  or  suspecting  any  of  them 
of  the  crime  of  overlooking  her  own  literary  importance. 

"  I  like  to  come  here,"  she  said.  "  It  rests  and  refreshes 
me,  after  a  week  in  the  school-room.  Mrs.  Yorkton  is 
sometimes  a  little  too  anxious  to  show  people  off,  which  I 
think  is  unnecessary.  They  are  always  ready  enough  to 
do  it  without  instigation.  But  it  is  very  pleasant  to  say 
and  do  what  you  please,  and  I  find  that  I  generally  learn 
something.  I  could  n't  aspire  to  the  higher  literary  circles, 
you  know." 

Loud  talking,  near  at  hand,  drew  my  attention.  It  was 
Smithers  engaged  in  a  discussion  with  S.  Hears. 

"  Classical  subjects  are  dead  —  obsolete  —  antediluvi 
an  ! "  cried  the  former.  "  Take  the  fireman,  in  his  red 
flannel  shirt,  with  the  sleeves  rolled  up  to  his  shoulders,  — 
the  clam-fisher,  bare-legged  on  the  sea-shore,  —  the  wood- 
chopper,  —  the  street-sweeper :  where  will  you  find  any 
thing  more  heroic  ?  " 

"  Very  good  for  genre"  said  S. Hears,  " but  you  would  n't 
call  it  High  Art?" 

"  It 's  the  Highest,  sir  !  Form  and  Action,  in  their  grand 
primitive  sublimity !  That 's  the  mistake  you  painters 
make  ;  you  go  on  forever  painting  leather-faced  Jeromes, 
and  Hagdalens  with  tallow  bosoms,  instead  of  turning  to 
Life  !  Life  's  the  thing !  A  strong-backed  'long-shore-man, 
with  his  hairy  and  sunburnt  arms,  and  the  tobacco-juice 
in  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  is  worth  all  your  saints  ! " 

"Very  well,"  said  S.  Hears;  "will  you  let  me  paint 
yourself,  with  vine-leaves  in  your  hair,  and  only  a  bit  of 
goat-skin  around  your  loins  ?  I  '11  call  it  Silenus.  You  '11 
have  your  '  Life,'  and  I  '11  have  my  classic  subject." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  279 

Mr.  Smithers  was  evidently  getting  angry,  and  would 
have  hotly  retorted,  but  for  the  interposition  of  Mr.  Blue- 
bit,  who  took  an  arm  of  each  and  shook  them  good- 
humoredly,  saying,  "  Congenial  spirits  move  in  harmoni 
ous  orbits."  Brandagee,  also,  had  been  attracted  by  the 
voices,  and  joined  the  group.  The  other  three  gentlemen, 
I  noticed,  treated  him  with  a  cautious  deference,  as  if  they 
had  been  pricked  by  his  tongue  and  did  not  wish  to  repeat 
the  sensation. 

Other  guests  dropped  in,  by  ones  and  twos,  until  the 
small  apartments  were  well  filled,  and  the  various  little 
centres  of  animated  talk  blended  in  an  incessant  and  not 
very  harmonious  noise.  Mrs.  Yorkton  seemed  to  consider 
me  as  an  acquisition  to  her  circle,  —  probably  because  it 
embraced  more  "  appreciative  sympathizers  "  than  authors, 
—  and  insisted  on  presenting  me  to  everybody,  as  "  one  of 
our  dawning  bards."  The  kindly  cordiality  with  which  I 
was  received  awoke  my  b.enumbed  ambition,  and  cheated 
me  into  the  belief  that  I  had  already  achieved  an  enviable 
renown. 

While  I  was  talking  to  a  very  hirsute  gentleman,  —  Mr. 
Ponder,  who  wrote  short  philosophical  essays  for  "The 
Hesperian,"  —  I  heard  a  familiar  female  voice  behind  me. 
Turning  around,  I  beheld  the  nose,  the  piercing  Oriental 
eyes,  and  the  narrow  streak  of  a  forehead  of  Miss  Levi, 
whom  I  had  not  seen  since  Winch's  reconciliation  ball. 
She  was  dressed  in  a  dark  maroon-colored  silk,  and  the 
word  "  Titianesque  ! "  which  I  heard  S.  Mears  address  to 
his  friend  Bluebit,  must  have  been  spoken  of  her.  Among 
so  many  new  faces  she  impressed  me  like  an  old  acquaint 
ance,  and  I  bowed  familiarly  as  soon  as  I  caught  her  eye. 
To  my  surprise,  she  returned  the  salutation  with  an  uncer 
tain  air,  in  which  there  was  but  half-recognition. 

"  How  have  you  been,  since  we  met  at  Mr.  Winch's  ?  " 
I  asked,  taking  a  vacant  seat  beside  her. 

"Oh,   very   true!     It   was  there  we  met:   I   remember 


280  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

the  song  you  sang.  What  a  pity  Mrs.  Yorkton  has  no 
piano  ! " 

I  was  too  much  disconcerted  by  the  mistake  to  set  her 
right;  but  Mrs.  Yorkton,  beholding  us,  bent  down  her 
forget-me-nots  and  whispered,  "And  you  never  told  me, 
Miss  Levi,  that  you  knew  Mr.  Godfrey  !  Why  did  you  not 
bring  him  into  our  circle  before  ?  " 

Miss  Levi  cast  a  side-glance  at  me,  recalled  my  person 
ality,  and  answered,  with  perfect  self-possession,  "  Oh,  I 
think  poets  should  find  their  way  to  each  other  by  instinct. 
I  can  understand  them,  though  I  may  not  be  of  them. 
Besides,  he  is  false  and  faithless.  You  know  you  are,  Mr. 
Godfrey :  you  are  like  a  bee,  going  from  flower  to  flower." 

"  Which  is  worse,  Miss  Levi,"  I  asked,  — "  the  bee  that 
visits  many  flowers,  or  the  flower  that  entertains  many 
bees?" 

She  spread  her  fan,  covered  the  lower  part  of  her  face 
with  it,  and  fixed  me  with  her  powerful  eyes,  while  Mrs. 
Yorkton  nodded  her  head  and  observed,  "An  admirable 
antithesis  ! " 

"  Now,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  Miss  Levi  resumed,  removing  her 
fan,  "  that  is  a  spiteful  remark,  and  you  know  it.  You 
must  repeat  to  me  your  last  poem,  before  I  can  forgive 
you." 

"  Pray  do !  "  cried  Mrs.  Yorkton,  clasping  her  hands  in 
entreaty.  "  Let  us  be  the  first  to  welcome  it,  before  you 
cast  it  forth  to  the  hollow  echoes,  of  the  world.  Mr.  Dan- 
forth  has  promised  to  read  to  us  the  first  act  of  his  new 
tragedy,  and  your  poem  will  be  a  lyrical  prelude  to  the 
sterner  recitation." 

But  I  was  steadfast  in  my  refusal.  I  had  written  nothing 
since  the  publication  of  my  volume,  and  how  was  I  to  utter 
to  the  ears  of  others  the  words  of  love  which  had  become 
a  mockery  to  my  own  heart  ?  The  controversy  drew  the 
eyes  of  others  upon  us,  until  Brandagee  came  to  my  rescue, 
by  proclaiming  his  own  lack  of  modesty,  and  demanding  a 
test  upon  the  spot. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  281 

"  Wljat  shall  it  be  ?  "  he  asked :  "  a  recitation,  a  lyrical 
improvisation,  or  an  extemporaneous  dramatic  soliloquy  ? 
There 's  no  difference  between  writing  a  thing  for  others 
to  read,  and  speaking  it  for  others  to  hear.  Poetry  is  only 
a  habit  of  the  mind  —  a  little  practice  makes  it  come  as 
pat  as  prose.  There  was  my  friend,  Von  Struensee,  the 
great  composer,  who  took  it  into  his  head,  when  he  was 
fifty  years  old,  to  write  the  librettos  of  his  own  operas. 
Never  had  attempted  a  line  of  poetry  before  ;  so  he  began 
by  lifting  the  calf,  and  it  was  n't  long  before  he  could  shoul 
der  the  ox.  The  first  day  he  wrote  two  lines  ;  the  second, 
four  ;  the  third,  eight ;  the  fourth,  sixteen  ;  doubling  every 
day  until  he  could  do  eighteen  hundred  lines  without  stop 
ping  to  take  breath.  Do  you  know  that  Sir  Egerton 
Brydges  wrote  fourteen  thousand  sonnets,  and  I  've  no  doubt 
they  were  as  good  as  Cardinal  Bembo's,  who  took  forty 
days  to  a  single  one.  Give  me  an  inspiring  subject,  —  the 
present  occasion,  for  instance,  or  an  apostrophe  to  our  tal 
ented  hostess,  —  and  I  '11  turn  out  the  lines  faster  than  you 
can  write  them." 

The  proposal  was  hailed  with  acclamation,  and  the  little 
interval  which  occurred  in  choosing  a  subject  gave  Bran- 
dagee  time  to  collect  his  thoughts  for  the  work.  He  had 
skilfully  suggested  a  theme,  which,  having  been  mentioned, 
could  not  well  be  overlooked,  and,  to  Mrs.  Yorkton's  intense 
satisfaction,  she  became  his  inspiration.  He  rattled  off 
with  great  rapidity  a  string  of  galloping  lines,  in  which 
there  was  not  much  cohesion,  but  plenty  of  extravagant 
compliment  and  some  wit.  However,  it  passed  as  a  mar 
vellous  performance,  and  was  loudly  applauded. 

Other  subjects  were  immediately  suggested,  considerably 
to  Mr.  Danforth's  annoyance.  This  gentleman  had  been 
fidgeting  about  the  room  uneasily,  with  one  hand  in  his 
pocket,  occasionally  drawing  forth  a  roll  of  paper  tied  with 
red  ribbon,  and  then  thrusting  it  back  again.  Brandagee, 
perceiving  the  movement,  said,  — 


282  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  Do  not  run  the  Pierian  fountain  dry  all  at  once,  I  beg 
of  you.  But,  if  Mr.  Danforth  will  allow  me,  I  will  read 
the  portion  of  his  tragedy  with  which  he  intends  to  favor 
us.  I  flatter  myself  that  I  can  do  justice  to  his  diction." 

The  proposal  met  with  favor  from  all  except  the  author. 
Thrusting  the  roll  deeper  into  his  pocket,  and  stiffening  his 
head  angrily,  he  protested  that  no  one  could  or  should  read 
his  own  manuscript  except  himself.  Besides,  he  had  not 
positively  promised  that  the  company  should  hear  it ;  the 
plot  was  not  yet  developed,  and  hence  the  situations  would 
not  be  properly  understood.  It  would  be  better,  perhaps, 
if  he  waited  until  the  completion  of  the  second  act. 

"  Wait  until  all  five  are  finished ! "  said  Mr.  Smithers. 
"  It  is  a  bad  plan  to  produce  your  torsos ;  I  never  knew  of 
any  good  to  come  of  it.  Give  me  the  complete  figure,  — 
bone,  muscle,  and  drapery,  and  then  I'll  tell  you  what 
it  is  !  " 

Brandagee  seconded  Mr.  Smithers's  views  so  heartily  that 
the  postponement  of  the  reading  was  soon  accepted,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  by  the  company.  Mr.  Danforth  was  con 
sequently  in  a  very  ill  humor  for  the  rest  of  the  evening. 
He  would  have  gone  home  at  once  but  that  Clara  Collady, 
whom  he  escorted,  declared  that  she  was  very  well  pleased 
with  the  entertainment  and  was  determined  to  remain. 

Adonis  now  reappeared  with  a  tray,  and  we  were  re 
galed  with  cups  of  weak  tea,  and  cakes  of  peculiar  texture. 
Under  the  influence  of  these  stimulants,  harmony  was  re 
stored,  and  the  orbits  of  the  congenial  spirits  ceased  to 
clash.  The  midnight  reports  of  fires  and  accidents  called 
me  away  soon  afterwards,  and  I  tore  myself  from  Miss 
Levi's  penetrating  eyes,  and  Mrs.  Yorkton's  clutching 
hands,  promising  to  return  on  successive  Friday  evenings. 
Brandagee  left  with  me,  satisfied,  as  he  said,  with  having 
"  choked  off  Danforth." 

As  I  was  leaving  the  room,  I  caught  sight  of  a  mild, 
diminutive  gentleman,  seated  alone  in  the  corner  nearest 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  283 

the  door.  He  was  looking  on  and  listening,  with  an  air  of 
modest  enjoyment.  None  of  the  others  seemed  to  notice 
him,  and  I  suspected  that  he  had  been  even  forgotten  by 
Adonis  and  the  tea-tray.  Catching  my  eye,  he  jumped  up 
briskly,  shook  hands,  and  said,  — 

"  Very  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  call.     Come  again  !  " 
-     It  was  Mr.  Yorkton. 


284  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

IN    WHICH    I   ENTER    GENTEEL    SOCIETY   AND    MEET  MY  REL 
ATIVES. 

WHEN  the  first  bitterness  of  my  humiliation  and  disap 
pointment  had  subsided,  and  the  conviction  penetrated  my 
mind  that  it  might  still  be  possible  for  me  to  take  a  mod 
erate  delight  in  life,  I  found  that  I  had  quite  broken  loose 
from  my  youthful  moorings  and  was  more  or  less  adrift, 
both  in  faith  and  morals.  I  do  not  mean  that  I  was  guilty 
of  actual  violations  of  my  early  creed ;  my  life  was  so  far 
correct,  through  the  negative  virtue  of  habit ;  but  I  was  in 
that  baseless  condition  where  a  strong  current  —  not  much 
matter  from  what  side  it  came  —  might  have  carried  me  far 
enough  to  settle  the  character  of  my  future  life.  I  have 
always  considered  it  a  special  blessing  that  so  much  of  my 
time  was  given  to  responsible  and  wearying  labor  in  those 
days.  I  retained  my  position  on  the  Wonder,  because  I  had 
not  sufficient  energy  to  seek  an  easier  situation,  and  no  de 
sire  to  try  new  associations.  The  variety  of  my  work  pre 
vented  steady  thought,  and  I  found  less  difficulty  in  escaping 
from  the  contemplation  of  my  wrongs.  Not  yet,  however, 
was  I  able  to  congratulate  myself  on  the  treachery  which 
had  released  my  heart  from  a  mistaken  bond. 

I  attended  Mrs.  Yorkton's  receptions  quite  regularly  for 
some  weeks.  As  the  steady  summer  heats  came  on,  her 
bower  was  partly  deserted,  the  artists  and  authors  having 
gone  into  the  rural  districts  and  taken  many  of  the  "  appre 
ciative  sympathizers "  with  them.  Miss  Levi  departed, 
early  in  July,  for  "  old  Long  Island's  sea-girt  shore  "  (as  she 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  285 

remarked).  I  afterwards  discovered  that  she  meant  Fire 
Island.  It  was  at  once  a  relief  and  a  regret  to  me,  when 
she  left.  I  began  to  enjoy  the  sham  skirmishes  of  senti- 
'ment  in  which  we  indulged,  especially  as  there  was  no  like 
lihood  of  either  being  damaged  by  the  pastime  ;  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  I  was  a  little  afraid  of  her  bewildering 
glances,  which  seenAed  to  increase  in  frequency  and  power 
of  fascination  every  time  we  met. 

Brandagee  did  not  again  attend.  He  left  the  city,  soon 
after  our  acquaintance  commenced,  for  a  tour  of  the  wa 
tering-places,  and  his  sharp,  saucy,  brilliant  letters  from 
Newport  and  Saratoga  took  the  place  of  his  dramatic  criti 
cisms  in  the  columns  of  the  Wonder.  I  prevailed  on 
Swansford  to  accompany  me,  on  two  occasions,  and  Mrs. 
Yorktown  was  very  grateful.  Music,  she  said,  had  not  yet 
been  represented  in  her  society,  and  she  was  delighted  to 
be  able  to  present  what  she  called  "  The  Wedded  Circle 
of  the  Arts,"  although  certain  that  Mrs.  Mallard  would  be 
furious  when  she  should  hear  of  it.  The  thinness  of  the 
attendance  during  the  dog-days  gave  me  an  opportunity  to 
cultivate  Mr.  Yorkton's  acquaintance,  and  the  modest  little 
man  soon  began  to  manifest  a  strong  attachment  for  me. 

"  Bless  you,  Mr.  Godfrey ! "  he  said,  I  don't  know  how 
many  times,  "  I  s'pose  I  'm  of  no  consequence  to  you  Ge- 
nusses,  but  I  do  like  to  exchange  a  friendly  word  with  a 
body.  These  is  all  distinguished  people,  and  I  'm  proud 
to  entertain  'em.  It  does  credit  to  Her  —  I  can  see  that. 
I  'm  told  you  can't  find  sich  another  Galaxy  of  Intellex, 
not  in  New- York.  A  man  in  my  position  has  a  right'  to  be 
proud  o'  that." 

Although  he  often  referred  to  his  position  in  the  same 
humble  manner,  I  never  ascertained  what  it  was.  When  I 
ventured  to  put  forth  a  delicate  reconnoissance,  he  looked 
at  his  wife,  as  if  expecting  a  warning  glance,  and  I  then 
surmised  that  she  had  prohibited  him  from  mentioning  the 
subject. 


286          JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  made  but  little  progress  in  my  literary  career  during 
this  time.  Not  more  than  seventy-five  copies  of  my  book 
had  been  sold,  and  although  the  publisher  did  not  seem  to 
be  at  all  surprised  at  this  result,  I  confess  I  was.  Never 
theless,  when  I  read  it  again  in  my  changed  mood,  sneer 
ing  at  myself  for  the  under-current  of  love  and  tenderness 
which  ran  through  it, —  recalling  the  hopes  with  which  I 
had  written,  and  the  visions  of  happiness  it  was  to  herald, 
—  I  found  there  was  not  left  sufficient  pride  in  my  perform 
ance  to  justify  me  in  feeling  sensitive  because  it  had'  failed. 
I  contributed  two  or  three  stories  to  "  The  Hesperian,"  but 
early  in  the  fall  Mr.  Jenks  became  bankrupt,  and  the  mag 
azine  passed  into  other  hands.  My  principal  story  was 
published  the  month  this  disaster  occurred,  and  it  has  not 
been  decided  to  this  day,  I  believe,  which  party  was  re 
sponsible  for  the  payment.  All  I  understand  of  the  matter 
is  that  the  payment  was  never  made. 

My  increased  salary,  nevertheless,  suggested  the  propri 
ety  of  living  in  a  somewhat  better  style  than  Mrs.  Very's 
domestic  circle  afforded.  It  was  hard  to  part  from  my  daily 
companionship  with  Swansford,  but  he  generously  admitted 
the  necessity  of  the  change  in  my  case,  and  I  faithfully 
promised  that  we  should  still  see  each  other  twice  or  thrice 
a  week.  •  It  was  more  difficult  to  escape  from  Mrs.  Very. 
"  It 's  an  awful  breaking  up  of  the  family,"  said  she,  "  and 
I  did  n't  think  you  'd  serve  me  so.  I  've  boarded  you 
reasonable,  though  I  say  it.  I  may  not  be  Fashionable," 
(giving  a  loud  sniff  at  the  word,)  "  but  I  'in  Respectable, 
and  that 's  more  !  " 

At  dinner,  that  day,  she  made  the  announcement  of  my 
departure  in  a  pleasant  voice  and  with  a  smiling  face.  But 
the  constrained  vexation  broke  out  in  her  closing  words,  — 
"  There  's  some  that  stands  by  me  faithful,  and  some  that 
don't." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mortimer  expressed  their  regret  in  phrases 
which  the  Complete  Letter- Writer  could  not  have  im- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  287 

proved,  while  Miss  Tatting,  in  whom  Impulsiveness  waged 
a  continual  war  with  Conventionality,  came  plumply  forth 
with  her  real  sentiments. 

"  I  see  how  it  is,"  said  she  ;  "  you  are  getting  up  in  the 
world,  and  Hester  Street  is  too  much  out  of  the  way.  It 's 
natural  in  you,  and  I  don't  blame  you  a  bit.  I  've  often 
said  it  would  turn  out  so,  —  have  n't  I,  Martha  ?  " 

This  was  to  Miss  Dunlap,  who  glanced  at  me  with  a 
stealthy  look  of  reproach,  as  she  murmured,  u  Yes,  aunt." 

I  knew  that  I  was  a  monster  of  ingratitude  in  Mrs. 
Very's  eyes,  a  fortunate  man  in  the  Mortimers',  and  a 
proud  one  in  those  of  Miss  Tatting  and  her  niece.  My 
last  dinner  in  Hester  Street  was  therefore  constrained  and 
uncomfortable,  and  I  made  all  haste  to  evacuate  the  famil 
iar  attic  room.  My  new  residence  was  the  elegant  board 
ing-house  of  Mrs.  De  Peyster,  in  Bleecker  Street,  west  of 
Broadway.  Here  I  paid  six  dollars  a  week  for  a  fourth- 
story  room  back,  furnished  with  decayed  elegance,  having 
a  grate  for  winter,  a  mosquito-net  for  summer,  and  a  small 
mahogany  cabinet  and  bookcase  for  all  seasons.  The  lat 
ter,  in  fact,  was  the  lure  which  had  fascinated  me,  on  the 
day  when  Mrs.  De  Peyster,  waiting  in  state  in  the  parlor 
below,  sent  me  up-stairs  with  the  chambermaid  to  inspect 
the  room. 

When  my  effects  had  been  transferred  to  these  new  quar 
ters,  and  I  had  arranged  my  small  stock  of  books  on  the 
shelves,  placed  my  manuscript  in  the  drawers  of  the  cabi 
net,  and  seated  myself  with  Wordsworth  in  an  arm-chair 
at  the  open  window,  I  seemed  to  be  enveloped  at  once  in 
an  atmosphere  of  superior  gentility.  The  backyards  em 
braced  in  my  view  were  not  only  more  spacious  than  those 
under  Swansford's  window  in  Hester  Street,  but  the  board- 
partitions  between  them  were  painted,  and  a  row  of  grape- 
arbors  hid  the  lower  stories  of  the  opposite  block.  From 
one  of  the  open  windows  below  me  arose  the  sound  of  a 
piano.  It  was  not  a  favorable  post  for  reading  enthusiastic 


288  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

lines  about  celandines  and  daffodils,  and  I  frankly  admit 
that  I  found  Wordsworth  rather  tame. 

This  was  during  the  half  hour  before  dinner.  When  the 
bell  rang,  I  descended,  not  to  the  basement,  but  to  the 
back-parlor,  where  Mrs.  De  Peyster  introduced  me  to  my 
neighbor  at  the  foot  of  the  table,  Mr.  Renwick,  a  clerk  in 
an  importing  house  down  town.  He  was  a  younger,  taller, 
and  more  elegant  variety  of  the  Mortimer  type  :  correct 
ness  was  his  prominent  characteristic.  There  was  also  a 
young  married  couple,  a  family  consisting  of  father,  moth 
er,  and  two  daughters,  and  four  gentlemen  of  various  ages, 
all  bearing  the  same  stamp  of  unimpeachable  propriety. 
The  dinner  was  a  much  more  solemn  affair  than  at  Mrs. 
Very's.  Thin  morsels  of  fish  succeeded  the  soup,  and  the 
conversation,  commencing  with  the  roast  and  vegetables, 
in  a  series  of  tentative  skirmishes,  only  became  fairly 
established  towards  the  close  of  the  meal. 

Mr.  Renwick,  oblivious  of  my  presence  for  the  first  ten 
minutes  after  the  introduction,  suddenly  startled  me  by 
saying,  — 

"  I  see  that  Erie  went  up  at  the  Second  Board,  to-day." 

"  Indeed  ?  "  I  remarked,  feeling  that  a  slight  expression 
of  surprise  would  not  be  out  of  place ;  though  what  "  Erie  " 
was,  and  why  it  should  go  up  at  the  Second  Board,  was  a 
mystery  to  me. 

"  Yes.  Five  eighths,"  said  he.  Then,  as  if  conscious 
that  he  had  done  his  duty,  he  became  silent  again  until  the 
close  of  the  dessert,  when,  warming  up  over  a  slice  of  water 
melon,  he  observed,  in  a  lower  and  more  confidential  tone,  — 

"  I  should  n't  wonder  if  the  balance  of  Exchange  were 
•on  our  side  before  Christinas." 

"  What  reasons  have  you  for  thinking  so  ?  "  I  asked  at 
random. 

"  Crops.     I  always  keep  the  run  of  them." 

"  They  are  very  fine,  I  suppose,"  I  ventured  to  say,  with 
fear  and  trembling. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  289 

"  You  mean  here  ?  Yes.  And  I  see  that  the  prospects 
of  Pork  are  flattering.  Everything  combines,  you  know." 

I  did  n't  know  in  the  least,  but  of  course  I  nodded  and 
looked  wise,  and  said  I  was  glad  to  hear  it.  Of  all  talk  I 
had  ever  heard,  this  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  most  dread 
fully  soulless.  I  looked  up  the  table  and  listened.  The 
two  girls  were  talking  with  the  young  wife  about  a  wonder 
ful  poplin  at  Stewart's,  —  silver  gray  with  green  sprigs ; 
the  gentlemen  were  discussing  the  relative  speed  of  Scal 
pel  and  Oriana,  and  the  heavy  mother  was  lamenting  to 
the  attentive  Mrs.  De  Peyster  that  they  had  been  obliged 
to  leave  Newport  before  the  regatta  came  off,  "  on  account 
of  Mr.  Yarrow's  business,  —  the  firm  never  can  spare  him 
for  more  than  a  month  at  a  time." 

How  I  longed  for  the  transparent  pretension  of  the  table 
in  Hester  Street,  constantly  violating  the  rules  of  its  own 
demonstrative  gentility !  For  my  easy  chat  with  Swans- 
ford,  for  Miss  Dunlap's  faded  sentiment,  Miss  Tatting's  fear 
less  impulsiveness,  and  even  Mrs.  Very's  stiffly  stereotyped 
phrases !  There,  the  heavy  primitive  cooking  was  digested 
by  the  help  of  lively  nothings  of  talk  and  the  peristaltic 
stimulus  of  laughter :  here,  the  respectably  dressed  viands, 
appearing  in  their  conventional  order  of  procession,  were 
received  with  a  stately  formality  which  seemed  to  repel  their 
attempts  at  assimilation.  "Erie"  and  the  "balance  of 
exchange  "  mixed,  somehow,  with  the  vanilla-flavored  Uanc 
mange,  and  lay  heavy  on  my  stomach :  the  prospect  of  Mr. 
Renwick's  neighborhood  embarrassed  and  discouraged  me, 
but  I  could  not  see  that  any  advantage  would  be  gained  by 
changing  my  place  at  the  table. 

After  dinner  I  hurried  across  to  my  old  quarters,  for  the 
relief  of  Swansford's  company.  He  laughed  heartily  at  my 
description  of  the  genteel  society  into  which  I  was  now 
introduced,  and  said,  — 

"  Ah,  Godfrey,  you  '11  find  as  I  have  done  that  Art  spoils 
you  for  life.  It  is  the  old  alternative  of  God  or  Mammon : 
19 


290  JOHN  GODFKEY'S  FORTUNES. 

you  can't  serve  two  masters.  Try  it,  if  you  like,  but  I 
see  how  it  will  end.  I  have  made  my  choice,  and  will 
stick  to  it  until  I  die  :  you  think  you  have  made  yours, 
but  you  have  not.  You  are  getting  further  from  Art 
every  day," 

I  resented  this  opinion  rather  warmly,  because  I  felt 
a  suspicion  of  its  truth.  I  protested  that  nothing  else  ffcut 
Literature  was  now  left  me  to  live  for.  It  was  true  I  had 
seemed  to  neglect  it  of  late,  but  he,  Swansford,  knew  the 
reason,  and  ought  to  be  the  last  man  to  charge  me  with 
apostasy  to  my  lofty  intellectual  aims.  He  half  smiled,  in 
his  sweet,  sad  way,  and  gave  me  his  hand. 

"  Forgive  me,  Godfrey,"  he  said ;  "  I  did  n't  mean  as 
much  as  you  supposed.  I  was  thinking  of  that  single- 
hearted  devotion  to  Art,  of  which  few  men  are  capable, 
and  which,  God  knows,  I  should  not  wish  you  to  possess, 
unless  you  were  sure  that  you  were  destined  to  reach  the 
highest  place.  Most  authors  and  artists  live  in  the  border 
land,  and  make  excursions  from  time  to  time  over  the 
frontier,  but  there  are  few  indeed  who  build  their  dwell 
ings  on  the  side  turned  away  from  the  world!" 

"  I  understand  you  now,  Swansford,"  I  answered,  "  and 
you  are  right.  I  am  not  destined  to  be  one  of  the  highest ; 
don't  think  that  I  ever  imagined  it.  I  am  cast  alone  on  the 
world.  I  have  been  cheated  and  outraged,  as  you  know. 
I  see  Life  before  me,  offering  other  —  lower  modes  of  en 
joyment,  I  will  not  deny ;  but  where  else  shall  I  turn  for 
compensation  ?  Suppose  I  should  achieve  fame  as  an  au 
thor?  I  have  a  little  already,  and  I  feel  that  even  the 
highest  would  not  repay  me  for  what  I  have  lost.  I  shall 
not  reject  any  other  good  the  gods  provide  me.  I  've  tried 
purity  and  fidelity  of  heart,  to  no  purpose.  I  don't  say  that 
I  '11  try  the  opposite,  now,  but  you  could  n't  blame  me  if  I 
did  ! " 

"  Come,  Godfrey,"  said  he,  "  I  've  written  a  voluntary 
for  the  organist  of  St.  Barnaby's.  He  paid  me  to-day,  and 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  291 

I  have  two  dollars  to  spare.  We  '11  go  out  and  have  a  lit 
tle  supper  together." 

Which  we  did,  and  in  the  course  of  which  we  put  the 
World  on  its  trial,  heard  all  the  arguments  on  either  side, 
rendered  (without  leaving  our  seats)  a  verdict  of  "  Guilty," 
and  invoked  the  sentence  which  we  were  powerless  to  in 
flict.  What  should  I  have  done  without  that  safety-valve 
of  Swansford's  friendship  ? 

By-and-by  I  grew  more  accustomed  to  my  life  in  Bleecker 
Street.  I  found  that  Mr.  Renwick  could  talk  about  Mrs. 
Pudge  and  the  drama,  as  well  as  Erie  and  the  Second 
Board  ;  and  that  Mr.  Blossom,  the  very  same  gentleman 
who  had  bet  ten  dollars  on  Scalpel  at  the  Long  Island 
races,  was  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Tennyson.  He  had 
a  choice  library  of  the  English  Poets  in  his  room,  and  oc 
casionally  lent  me  volumes.  I  learned  to  read  Words 
worth  at  my  window,  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  fashion 
able  redowa  on  the  first-floor  piano,  and  after  many  days 
there  dawned  upon  my  brain  the  conviction  that  there  was 
another  kind  of  poetry  than  Tom  Moore's  and  Felicia  He- 
mans's. 

I  grew  tolerably  skilful  in  the  performance  of  my  labor 
for  the  Wonder,  having  fallen  into  an  unconscious  imitation 
of  Brandagee's  smart,  flashy  style,  which  gave  piquancy  to 
my  descriptions  and  reports.  Mr.  Clarendon  was  quite 
satisfied  with  my  performance,  though  he  let  fall  a  word  of 
warning.  "  This  manner,"  he  said,  "  is  very  well  for  your 
present  department,  but,  if  you  want  to  advance,  you  must 
not  let  it  corrupt  you  entirely." 

Thus  the  summer  and  part  of  the  autumn  passed  away, 
without  bringing  any  occurrence  worthy  of  being  recorded. 
Towards  the  end  of  October,  however,  a  sudden  and  most 
unexpected  pleasure  came  to  cheer  me. 

I  had  gone  into  the  St.  Nicholas  Hotel  on  some  errand 
connected  with  my  newspaper  labors,  and  was  passing  out 
again  through  the  marble-paved  lobby,  when  a  gentleman 


292  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

suddenly  arose  from  the  row  of  loungers  on  the  broad,  car 
pet-covered  stalls,  and  stepped  before  me.  A  glance  of  his 
dark,  questioning  eyes  seemed  to  satisfy  him ;  he  seized  my 
hand,  and  exclaimed,  — 

"  John  Godfrey,  is  this  really  you  ?  " 

Penrose !  my  cousin  !  I  had  not  forgotten  him,  although 
our  correspondence,  after  languishing  for  a  few  months, 
had  died  a  natural  death  before  I  left  Reading.  For  two 
years  I  had  heard  no  word  of  him,  and,  since  my  bitter 
experience  of  the  past  summer,  had  reckoned  it  as  one  of 
the  improbable  possibilities  of  life  that  we  should  ever  meet 
again.  His  boyish  beauty  had  ripened  into  an  equally 
noble  manhood.  He  was  taller  and  stronger  limbed,  with 
out  having  lost  any  of  his  grace  and  symmetry.  A  soft, 
thick  moustache  hid  the  sharp,  scornful  curve  of  his  upper 
lip,  and  threw  a  shade  over  the  corners  of  his  mouth,  and 
the  fitful,  passionate  spirit  which  once  shot  from  his  eyes 
had  given  place  to  a  full,  steady  ray  of  power.  As  I  looked 
at  him,  I  felt  proud  that  the  same  blood  ran  in  our  veins. 

We  sought  out  a  vacant  corner  in  the  reading-room  and 
sat  down  together.  He  looked  once  more  into  my  eyes 
with  an  expression  of  honest  affection,  which  warmed  the 
embers  of  my  school-boy  feeling  for  him  in  an  instant. 

"  We  should  not  have  lost  sight  of  each  other,  John,"  he 
said.  "  It  was  more  my  fault  than  yours,  I  think ;  but  I 
never  forgot  you.  I  could  scarcely  believe  my  eyes  when 
we  met,  just  now.  Yours  is  a  face  that  would  change  more 
than  mine.  There  is  not  much  of  the  boy  left  in  it.  Come, 
give  me  your  history  since  you  left  Dr.  Dymond's." 

I  complied,  omitting  the  most  important  episode.  Pen- 
rose  heard  the  story  with  keen  interest,  interrupting  me 
only  with  an  ejaculation  of  "  The  old  brute ! "  when  I  re 
lated  my  uncle's  management  of  my  inheritance. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  when  I  had  finished,  "  you  shall  have 
my  story.  There  is  very  little  of  it.  I  was  twenty,  you 
may  remember,  when  I  left  the  Doctor's  school,  and  went 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  293 

into  my  uncle's  office.  I  had  no  expectation  of  ever  receiv 
ing  any  assistance  from  my  father,  and  worked  like  a  young 
fellow  who  has  his  fortune  to  make.  I  believe  I  showed 
some  business  capacity  ;  at  least  my  uncle  thought  so  ;  and 
after  I  came  of  age  my  father  found  it  prudent  to  make  an 
outside  show  of  reconciliation.  Matilda  insists  that  the 
Cook  had  a  hand  in  it,  but  I  prefer  not  to  believe  it.  If 
she  had,  I  rather  think  she  was  disappointed  at  the  result ; 
for,  when  my  father  died,  a  year  ago,  he  only  left  her  the 
legal  third.  The  rest  was  divided  between  Matilda  and 
myself.  I  'm  sure  I  expected  to  be  cut  off  with  a  shilling, 
but  it  seems  his  sense  of  justice  came  back  to  him  at  the 
last.  His  fortune  was  much  less  than  everybody  supposed, 
—  barely  a  hundred  thousand  —  and  I  have  my  suspicions 
that  the  Cook  laid  away  an  extra  share  in  her  own  name 
before  his  death.  It  makes  no  difference  to  me  now  ;  we 
are  well  rid  of  her.  Matilda  was  married  a  month  ago, 
and,  though  I  can't  say  that  I  particularly  admire  the 
brother-in-law  she  has  selected  for  me,  I  am  satisfied  that 
she  is  out  of  the  hands  of  that  woman." 

"  Are  you  living  in  New  York,  Alexander  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Not  now ;  but  I  may  fix  my  home  here,  very  soon.  I 
shall  have  another  motive,  old  fellow,  now  that  I  know  you 
are  here.  I  have  a  chance  of  getting  into  a  firm  down 
town,  if  my  little  capital  can  be  stretched  to  meet  the  sum 
demanded.  I  have  luxurious  tastes,  —  they  are  in  the 
Hatzfeld  blood,  are  they  not  ?  —  and  I  could  not  be  con 
tent  to  sit  down  at  my  age,  with  my  two  thousand  a  year. 
I  suppose  I  shall  marry  some  day,  and  then  I  must  have 
ten  thousand." 

It  did  not  surprise  me  to  hear  Penrose  speak  slightingly 
of  a  fortune  which,  to  me,  would  have  been  a  splendid  com 
petence.  It  belonged  to  his  magnificent  air,  and  any  stran 
ger  could  have  seen  that  he  would  certainly  acquire  what 
ever  his  ambition  might  select  as  being  necessary  to  his 
life.  I  never  knew  a  man  who,  without  genius,  so  im- 


294  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

pressed  every  one  with  a  belief  in  his  powers  of  command 
ing  success. 

As  I  stretched  out  my  hand  to  say  good-bye,  he  grasped 
me  by  the  arm,  and  said,  "  You  must  see  Matilda.  •  She  is 
in  her  private  parlor,  and  I  think  Shanks,  her  husband, 
will  be  at  home  by  this  time." 

I  had  no  very  strong  desire  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
my  other  cousin,  and  I  suppose  Penrose  must  have  read 
the  fact  in  my  face,  for  he  remarked,  as  we  were  mount 
ing  the  stairs,  "Now  I  remember,  there  was  something 
in  one  of  Matilda's  letters  which  was  not  very  flattering  to 
you.  But  I  have  told  her  of  our  friendship  since,  and  I 
know  that  she  will  be  really  glad  to  see  you.  She  has  not 
a  bad  heart,  when  you  once  get  down  to  it ;  though  it  seems 
to  me,  sometimes,  to  be  as  grown  over  with  selfish  habits 
and  affectations  as  a  ship's  hull  with  barnacles." 

When  we  entered  the  private  parlor  on  the  third  floor,  I 
perceived  an  elegant  figure  seated  at  the  window. 

"  'Till,"  said  Penrose,  "  come  here  and  shake  hands  with 
our  cousin,  John  Godfrey ! " 

"  R-really  ? "  she  exclaimed,  with  as  much  surprise  as 
was  compatible  with  a  high-bred  air,  and  the  next  moment 
rustled  superbly  across  the  room. 

"  How  do  you  do,  cousin  ? "  she  said,  giving  me  a  jew 
elled  hand.  "Are  you  my  cousin,  Mr.  Godfrey?  Aleck 
explained  it  all  to  me  once  how  you  found  out  the  relation 
ship,  somewhere  in  a  wild  glen,  was  n't  it  ?  It  was  quite 
romantic,  I  know,  and  I  envied  him  at  the  time.  You 
have  the  Hatzfeld  eyes,  certainly,  like  us.  I  'm  sure  I  'm 
very  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance." 

I  expressed  my  own  gratification  with  as  much  show  of 
sincerity  as  I  could  command.  Matilda  Shanks  was  a  tall, 
fine-looking  woman,  though  by  no  means  so  handsome  as 
her  brother.  Her  eyes  and  hair  were  dark,  like  his,  but 
her  face  was  longer,  and  some  change  in  the  setting  of  the 
features,  almost  too  slight  to  be  defined,  substituted  an  ex- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  295 

pression  of  weakness  for  the  strength  of  his.  She  must 
have  been  twenty-seven,  but  appeared  to  be  two  or  three 
years  older,. —  a  result,  probably,  of  the  tutorship  she  had 
assumed  on  her  step-mother's  behalf. 

"  "Well,  'Till,"  said  Penrose,  when  we  had  seated  ourselves 
in  a  triangular  group,  "  do  you  find  him  presentable  ?  " 

Her  eyes  had  already  carefully  gone  over  my  person 
from  head  to  foot.  "  Tres  comme  il  faut"  she  answered  ; 
"  but  I  took  your  word  for  that,  beforehand,  Aleck." 

"You  must  know,  Godfrey,  that  Matilda  is  a  perfect 
dragon  in  regard  to  dress,  manners,  and  all  the  other  requi 
sites  of  social  salvation.  It 's  a  piece  of  good  luck  to  pass 
muster  with  her,  I  assure  you.  I  have  not  succeeded 

yet." 

She  was  beginning  to  put  in  an  affected  disclaimer  when 
Mr.  Shanks  entered  the  room.  I  saw  his  calibre  at  the 
first  glance.  The  wide  trousers,  flapping  around  the  thin 
legs ;  the  light,  loose  coat,  elegantly  fitting  at  the  shoulders 
and  just  touching  its  fronts  on  the  narrow  ground  of  a 
single  button ;  the  exquisite  collar,  the  dainty  gloves  and 
patent-leather  boots,  and  the  gold-headed  switch,  all  pro 
claimed  the  fashionable  young  gentleman,  while  the  dull, 
lustreless  stare  of  the  eyes,  the  dark  bands  under  them, 
and  the  listless,  half-closed  mouth,  told  as  plainly  of  shallow 
brains  and  dissipated  habits.  He  came  dancing  up  to  his 
wife,  put  one  arm  around  her  neck  and  kissed  her. 

She  lifted  up  her  hand  and  gave  his  imperial  a  little 
twitch,  by  way  of  returning  the  caress,  and  then  said,  "  Ed 
mund,  my  cousin,  Mr.  Godfrey." 

"  Ah  ! "  exclaimed  Edmund,  hastily  thrusting  an  eye-glass 
into  his  left  eye  and  turning  towards  me.  Retaining  his 
hold  of  the  switch  with  two  fingers,  he  graciously  presented 
me  with  the  other  two,  as  he  drawled  out,  "  Very  happy, 
sir." 

I  was  vexed  at  myself  afterwards  that  I  gave  him  my 
whole  hand.  I  know  of  no  form  of  vulgarity  so  offensive 


296  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

as  this  offering  of  a  fractional  salutation.     None  but  a  snob 
would  ever  be  guilty  of  it. 

A  conversation  about  billiards  and  trotting-horses  ensued, 
and  I  broke  away  in  the  midst  of  it,  after  promising  to  dine 
with  the  Shanks  at  an  early  day. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  297 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

DESCRIBING   MY   INTERVIEW  WITH   MARY   MALONEY. 

ONE  result  of  my  out-door  occupation  was  to  make  me 
familiar  with  all  parts  of  the  city.  During  the  first  year 
of  my  residence  I  had  seen  little  else  than  Broadway,  from 
the  Battery  to  Union  Square,  Chatham  Street,  and  the 
Bowery.  I  now  discovered  that  there  were  many  other 
regions,  each  possessing  a  distinct  individuality  and  a  sep 
arate  city-life  of  its  own.  From  noticing  the  external  char 
acteristics,  I  came  gradually  to  study  the  peculiarities  of 
the  inhabitants,  and  thus  obtained  a  knowledge  which  was 
not  only  of  great  advantage  to  me  in  a  professional  sense, 
but  gave  me  an  interest  in  men  which  counteracted,  to 
some  extent,  the  growing  cynicism  of  my  views.  Often, 
when  tired  of  reading  and  feeling  no  impulse  to  write,  (the 
greatest  portion  of  my  literary  energy  being  now  expended 
on  my  regular  duties,)  I  would  pass  an  idle  but  not  useless 
hour  in  wandering  around  the  sepulchral  seclusion  of  St. 
John's  Park,  with  its  obsolete  gentility  ;  or  the  solid  plain 
ness  of  East  Broadway, —  home  of  plodding  and  prosperous 
men  of  business ;  or  the  cosmopolitan  rag-fair  of  Green 
wich  Street ;  or  the  seething  lowest  depth  of  the  Five 
Points  ;  the  proud  family  aristocracy  of  Second,  or  the 
pretentious  moneyed  aristocracy  of  Fifth  Avenue,  —  invol 
untarily  contrasting  and  comparing  these  spheres  of  life, 
each  of  which  retained  its  independent  motion,  while  re 
volving  in  the  same  machine. 

I  will  not  trouble  the  reader  with  the  speculations  which 
these  experiences  suggested.  They  were  sufficiently  com- 


298  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

monplace,.  I  dare  say,  and  have  been  uttered  several  mil 
lions  of  times,  by  young  men  of  the  same  age  ;  but  I  none 
the  less  thought  them  both  original  and  profound,  and  con 
sidered  myself  a  philosopher,  in  the  loftiest  sense  of  the 
word.  I  imagined  that  I  comprehended  the  several  na 
tures  of  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  learned  and  the  igno 
rant,  the  righteous  and  the  vicious,  from  such  superficial 
observation,  —  not  yet  perceiving,  through  my  own  experi 
ence,  the  common  flesh  and  spirit  of  all  men. 

One  afternoon,  as  I  was  slowly  returning  towards  my 
lodgings  from  a  professional  inspection  of  a  new  church 
in  Sixth  Avenue,  I  was  struck  by  the  figure  of  a  woman, 
standing  at  the  corner  of  Bleecker  and  Sullivan  Streets. 

O 

A  woman  of  the  laboring  class,  dressed  in  clean  but  faded 
calico,  —  leaning  against  the  area-railing  of  the  corner 
house,  with  a  weak,  helpless  appeal  expressing  itself  in  her 
attitude.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me  as  I  passed,  with 
a  steady,  imploring  gaze,  which  ran  through  me,  like  a 
palpable  benumbing  agency,  laming  my  feet  as  they  walked. 
Yet  she  said  nothing,  and  could  scarcely,  I  thought,  be  a 
beggar.  I  was  well  accustomed  to  the  arts  of  the  street- 
beggars,  and  usually  steeled  myself  (though  with  an  un 
conquerable  sense  of  my  own  inhumanity)  against  their 
appeals.  Now  and  then,  however,  I  met  with  one  whom 
I  could  not  escape.  There  was  a  young  fellow,  for  instance, 
with  both  his  legs  cut  off  at  the  thighs,  who  paddled  his 
way  around  the  Park  by  means  of  his  hands.  I  had  been 
told  that  he  was  in  good  circumstances,  having  received 
heavy  damages  from  the  Hudson  River  Railroad  Company ; 
but  I  could  not  stand  the  supplication  of  his  eyes  whenever 
we  met,  and  was  obliged  either  to  turn  my  head  away  or 
lose  two  shillings.  There  was  the  same  magnetism  in  this 
woman's  eyes,  and  before  I  crossed  the  street,  I  felt  myself 
impelled  to  turn  and  look  at  her  again. 

She  came  forward  instantly  as  I  did  so,  yet  not  so  rap 
idly  that  I  could  not  perceive  the  struggle  of  some  power- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  299 

ful  motive  with  her  natural  reltictancy.  I  stepped  back  to 
the  sidewalk. 

"  Oh,  sir ! "  said  she,  "  perhaps  you  could  help  a  poor 
woman." 

I  was  suspicious  of  my  own  sympathy,  and  answered 
coldly,  "  I  don't  know.  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  It 's  the  rent,"  she  said.  "  I  can  always  airn  my  own 
livin'  and  have  done  it,  and  the  rent  too,  all  to  this  last 
quarter,  when  I  've  been  so  ailin',  and  my  boy  gits  no  wages 
at  all.  If  I  don't  pay  it,  I  '11  be  turned  into  the  street  to 
morrow.  I  'm  no  beggar :  I  niver  thought  to  ha'  beseeched 
anybody  while  my  own  two  hands  held  out :  but  there  it  is, 
and  here  I  am,  and  if  it  was  n't  for  my  boy  I  would  n't  care 
how  soon  the  world  'd  come  to  an  end  for  me.  The  best 
things  was  pawned  to  pay  the  doctor,  only  my  weddin'-ring 
I  can't  let  go,  for  Hugh's  sake.  His  blessed  soul  would 
n't  be  satisfied,  if  I  was  buried  without  that  on  my  finger." 

She  was  crying  long  before  she  finished  speaking,  turn 
ing  the  thin  hoop  of  very  pale  gold  with  her  other  thumb 
and  finger,  and  then  clasping  her  hands  hard  together,  as 
if  with  an  instinctive  fear  that  somebody  might  snatch  it 
off.  This  action  and  her  tears  melted  me  entirely  to  pity. 

"  How  much  must  you  have  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  It 's  a  whole  quarter's  rent  —  fifteen  dollars.  If  that 
was  paid,  though  I  'm  a  little  wake  ^et,  I  could  wurrk  for 
the  two  of  us.  Could  you  help  me  to  it  any  way  ?  " 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?  " 

"  It 's  jist  by  here  —  in  Gooseberry  Alley.  And  the 
Feenys  will  tell  you  it 's  ivery  word  true  I  've  said.  Andy, 
or  his  wife  aither,  was  willin'  enough  to  help  me,  but  she 
has  a  baby  not  a  week  old,  and  they  've  need  of  ivery 
penny." 

She  turned,  with  a  quick,  eager  movement,  and  I  fol 
lowed,  without  any  further  question.  Gooseberry  Alley 
was  but  a  few  blocks  distant.  It  was  a  close,  dirty  place, 
debouching  on  Sullivan  Street,  and  barely  wide  enough  for 


300  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

a  single  cart  to  be  backed  into.  The  houses  were  of  brick, 
but  had  evidently  been  built  all  at  once,  and  in  such  a 
cheap  way  that  they  seemed  to  be  already  tumbling  down 
from  a  lack  of  cohesive  material.  A  multitude  of  young 
children  were  playing  with  potato  parings  or  stirring  up 
the  foul  gutter  in  the  centre  of  the  alley  with  rotting  cab 
bage-stalks.  I  remember  thinking  that  Nature  takes  great 
pains  to  multiply  the  low  types  of  our  race,  while  she  heed 
lessly  lets  the  highest  run  out.  A  very  disagreeable  smell, 
which  I  cannot  describe,  but  which  may  be  found  wherever 
'the  poor  Irish  congregate,  filled  the  air.  That  alone  was 
misery  enough,  to  my  thinking. 

About  half-way  up  the  alley,  the  woman  entered  a  house 
on  the  right-hand,  saying,  "  It 's  a  poor  place,  sir,  for  the 
likes  of  you  to  come  into,  but  you  must  see  whether  I  spake 
the  truth." 

In  the  narrow  passage  the  floor  was  so  dirty  and  the 
walls  so  smutched  and  greasy  that  I  shuddered  and  held  the 
skirts  of  my  coat  close  to  my  sides  ;  but  when  we  had 
mounted  a  steep  flight  of  steps  and  entered  the  woman's 
own  apartment,  —  a  rear  projection  of  the  house,  —  there 
was  a  change  for  the  better.  The  first  room  was  a  bed- 

o 

room,  bare  and  with  the  least  possible  furniture,  but  com 
fortably  clean.  Beyond  this  there  was  a  smaller  room, 
which  seemed  to  be  a  combined  kitchen  and  laundry,  to 
judge  from  the  few  necessary  implements.  The  woman 
dusted  an  impainted  wooden  stool  with  her  apron  and  gave 
it  to  me  for  a  seat. 

"  My  boy  made  it,"  said  she ;  "  the  master  let  him  do 
that  much,  but  it 's  little  time  he  gits  for  such  things." 

She  then  entered  into  an  explanation  of  her  circum 
stances,  from  which  I  learned  that  her  name  was  Mary 
Maloney ;  that  she  was  a  native  of  the  North  of  Ireland, 
and  had  emigrated  to  America  with  her  husband  ten  years 
before.  They  had  had  many  ups  and  downs,  even  while 
the  latter  lived.  I  suspected,  though  she  did  not  say  it, 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  301 

that  he  was  a  reckless,  improvident  fellow,  whose  new 
independence  had  completed  his  ruin.  After  his  death,  she 
had  supported  herself  mostly  by  washing,  but  succeeded 
in  getting  her  boy,  Hugh,  admitted  as  an  apprentice  into  a 
large  upholstery  establishment,  and  might  have  laid  up  a 
little  in  the  Savings-Bank,  if  she  had  not  been  obliged  to 
feed  and  lodge  him  for  the  first  two  years,  only  one  of  which 
was  passed.  Hugh  was  a  good  boy,  she  said,  the  picture 
of  his  father,  and  she  thought  he  would  be  all  the  better 
for  having  a  steady  trade.  After  a  while  he  would  get 
wages,  and  be  able  to  keep  not  only  himself  but  her,  too. 
Would  I  go  into  Feeny's  —  the  front  rooms  on  the  same 
floor  —  and  ask  them  to  testify  to  her  carackter  ? 

I  did  not  need  any  corroborative  evidence  of  her  story. 
The  woman's  honesty  was  apparent  to  me,  in  her  simple, 
consistent  words,  in  her  homely,  worn  features  and  un 
shrinking  eyes,  and  in  the  utter  yet  decent  poverty  of  her 
dwelling.  I  determined  to  help  her,  —  but  there  were 
scarcely  five  dollars  in  my  pocket  and  fifteen  were  to  be 
paid  on  the  morrow.  It  was  drawing  near  to  Mrs.  De 
Peyster's  dinner-hour,  and  I  recollected  that  on  two  or 
three  occasions  small  collections  for  charitable  purposes 
had  been  taken  up  at  that  lady's  table.  I  therefore  deter 
mined  to  state  the  case,  and  ask  the  assistance  of  the  other 
boarders. 

"  I  must  go  now,"  I  said,  "  but  will  try  to  do  some 
thing  for  you.  Will  you  be  here  at  seven  o'clock  this 
evening  ?  " 

"  I  niver  go  out  o'  th'  evenin',  "  she  answered,  "  and  not 
often  o'  th'  day.  Hugh  '11  be  home  at  seven.  If  you  could 
only  lend  me  the  money,  sir,  —  I  don't  ask  you  to  give  it, 
—  I  'd  do  some  washin'  for  y'rself  or  y'r  family,  a  little  ivery 
wake,  to  pay  ye  back  ag'in." 

When  we  had  reached  a  proper  stage  of  the  dinner,  I  men 
tioned  the  matter  to  Messrs.  Renwick  and  Blossom,  asking 
them  whether  they  and  the  other  gentlemen  would  be  will 
ing  to  contribute  towards  the  sum  required. 


302  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  You  are  satisfied  that  it  is  a  case  of  real  distress,  and 
the  money  is  actually  needed  ? "  asked  the  latter. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  it." 

"  Then  here  are  two  dollars,  to  begin  with.  I  think  we 
can  raise  the  whole  amount."  He  took  advantage  of  a  lull 

& 

in  the  conversation  and  repeated  my  statement  to  the  com 
pany.  After  a  few  questions  which  I  was  able  to  answer, 
pocket-books  were  produced  and  note  after  note  passed 
down  the  table  to  me.  Upon  counting  them,  I  found  the 
sum  contributed  to  be  nineteen  dollars.  I  stated  this  fact, 
adding  it  was  more  than  was  required.  Some  one  an 
swered,  "  So  much  the  better,  —  the  woman  will  have  four 
dollars  to  begin  the  next  quarter  with."  The  others  ac 
quiesced,  and  then  resumed  their  former  topics  of  conver 
sation,  satisfied  that  the  matter  was  now  settled.  I  was 
greatly  delighted  with  this  generous  response  to  my  appeal, 
and  began  to  wonder  whether  the  shallow,  superficial  inter 
ests  with  which  my  fellow-boarders  seemed  to  be  occupied, 
were  not,  after  all,  a  mere  matter  of  education.  They  had 
given,  in  a  careless,  indifferent  way,  it  was  true ;  but  then, 
they  had  given  and  not  withheld.  I  had  no  right  to  suppose 
that  their  sympathy  for  the  poor  widow  was  not  as  genuine 
as  my  own.  I  have  learned,  since  then,  that  this  noble 
trait  of  generosity  belongs  to  the  city  of  my  adoption. 
With  all  their  faults,  its  people  are  unstinted  givers ;  and 
no  appeal,  supported  by  responsible  authority,  is  ever  made 
to  them  in  vain. 

When  I  returned  to  Gooseberry  Alley  in  the  evening, 
I  found  Mary  Maloney  waiting  for  me  at  the  door,  her  face 
wild  and  pale  in  the  dim  street-light.  When  she  saw  me 
I  suppose  she  read  the  coming  relief  in  my  face,  for  she 
began  to  tremble,  retreating  into  the  dirty,  dark  passage  as 
she  whispered,  "  Come  tip-stairs,  will  you,  plase  —  my  boy  's 
at  home ! " 

An  ironing-board  was  laid  across  two  boxes  in  the  kitchen, 
and  Hugh,  a  short,  stout  lad  of  seventeen,  was  ironing  a 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  303 

shirt  upon  it.  His  broad  face,  curly  red  hair,  and  thick 
neck  were  thoroughly  Irish,  but  his  features  had  already 
the  Bowery  expression,  —  swaggering,  impudent,  and  good- 
humored.  His  bare  arms,  shining  milk-white  in  the  light 
of  the  single  tallow-candle,  showed  the  firmness  and  ful 
ness  of  the  growing  muscle.  The  picture  of  his  father 

—  his  mother  had  said.     I  did  not  doubt  it ;   I  saw  al 
ready   the   signs   of  inherited    appetites   which   only   the 
strictest  discipline  could  subdue.     He  stopped  in  his  work, 
as  we  entered,  looked  at  me,  then  at  his  mother,  and  some 
thing  of  her  anxiety  was  reflected  on  his  face.     I  even 
fancied  that  his  color  changed  as  he  waited  for  one  of  us 
to  speak. 

In  the  interest  with  which  I  regarded  him,  I  had  almost 
forgotten  my  errand.  There  was  a  sudden  burning  smell, 
and  an  exclamation  from  Mrs.  Maloney,  — 

"  Hugh,  my  boy  —  look  what  y  're  a-doin' !  The  shirt,  — 
whativer  shall  I  do  if  y  've  burnt  a  hole  in  it  ?  " 

Hugh's  hand,  holding  the  iron,  had  rested,  in  his  suspense, 
fortunately  not  upon  the  shirt,  but  the  blanket  under  it, 
making  a  yellow,  elliptical  scorch.  He  flung  down  the  iron 
before  the  little  grate,  and  said,  almost  fiercely :  — 

"  Why  couldn  't  you  tell  me  at  once,  mother ! " 

"  I  have  the  money,  Mrs.  Maloney,"  I  answered  for  her, 

—  "  the  fifteen  dollars  and  a  little  more." 

"  I  knowed  you  'd  bring  it ! "  she  exclaimed  ;  "  what 
didn't  I  tell  you,  Hugh  ?  I  was  afeared  to  be  too  shure, 
but  somethin'  told  me  I  'd  be  helped.  Bless  God  we  '11  see 
good  times  yit,  though  they  've  been  so  long  a-comin' !  " 

The  tears  were  running  down  her  face,  as  she  tried  to 
say  some  words  of  thanks.  Hugh's  eyes  were  moist, 
too ;  he  darted  a  single  grateful  glance  at  me,  but  said 
nothing,  and  presently,  seating  himself  on  the  wooden 
stool,  began  to  whistle  "  Garryowen."  I  delivered  into 
Mrs.  Maloney's  hands  the  fifteen  dollars,  and  then  seven 
more  (having  added  three,  as  my  own  contribution)  for  any 


304  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

additional  necessities.  I  explained  to  her  how  the  sum  had 
been  raised  as  a  free  and  willing  gift,  not  a  loan  to  be  re 
paid  by  painful  savings  from  her  scanty  earnings.  Then, 
beginning  to  look  upon  myself  as  a  benefactor,  I  added 
some  words  of  counsel  which  I  might  well  have  spared. 
With  a  more  sensitive  subject,  I  fancy  they  would  have  an 
nulled  any  feeling  of  obligation  towards  me  ;  but  Mary 
Maloney  was  too  sincerely  grateful  not  to  receive  them 
humbly  and  respectfully.  She  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
take  charge  of  my  washing,  which  I  agreed  to  give  her  on 
condition  that  I  should  pay  the  usual  rates.  Her  intention, 
however,  as  I  afterwards  discovered,  included  the  careful 
reparation  of  frayed  linen,  the  replacement  of  buttons,  and 
the  darning  of  stockings ;  and  in  this  way  my  virtue  was 
its  own  reward. 

I  turned  towards  Hugh,  in  whom,  also,  I  began  to  feel  a 
protecting  interest.  After  a  little  hesitancy,  which  mostly 
originated  in  his  pride,  he  talked  freely  and  quite  intelli 
gently  about  his  trade.  It^was  a  large  establishment,  and 
they  did  work  for  a  great  many  rich  families.  After  an 
other  year,  he  would  get  five  dollars  a  week,  taking  one 
season  with  another.  He  liked  the  place,  although  they 
gave  him  the  roughest  and  heaviest  jobs,  he  being  stronger 
in  the  arms  than  any  of  the  other  boys.  He  could  read 
and  write  a  little,  he  said,  —  would  like  to  have  a  chance 
to  learn  more,  but  there  was  ironing  to  do  every  night. 
He  had  to  help  his  mother  to  keep  her  customers ;  it  was 
n't  a  man's  work,  but  he  did  n't  mind  that,  at  all,  —  it 
went  a  little  ways  towards  paying  for  his  keep. 

Something  in  the  isolated  life  and  mutual  dependence  of 
this  poor  widow  and  son  reminded  me  of  my  own  boyish 
days.  For  the  first  time  in  many  months  I  spoke  of  my 
mother,  feeling  sure  that  the  humble  understandings  I  ad 
dressed  would  yet  appreciate  all  that  I  could  relate.  My 
heart  was  relieved  and  softened  as  I  spoke  of  mother's  self- 
denial,  of  her  secret  sufferings  and  her  tragic  death  ;  and 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  305 

Mary  Maloney,  though  she  only  said  "  Dear,  dear  ! "  took,  I 
was  sure,  every  word  into  her  heart.  Hugh  listened  atten 
tively,  and  the  impudent,  precocious  expression  of  manhood 
vanished  entirely  from  his  face.  When  I  had  finished,  and 
rose  to  leave,  his  mother  said,  — 

"  I  must  ha'  felt  that  you  was  the  son  of  a  widow,  this 
afternoon,  when  I  set  eyes  on  ye.  Her  blessed  soul  is  satis 
fied  with  ye  this  night,  and  ye  don't  need  my  blessin',  but 
you  have  it  all  the  same.  Hugh  won't  forgit  ye,  neither, 
will  ye,  Hugh?" 

"  I  reckon  not,"  Hugh  answered,  rather  doggedly. 

I  had  a  better  evidence  of  the  fact,  however,  when 
Christmas  came.  He  found  his  way  to  my  room  before  I 
was  dressed,  and  with  an  air  half  sheepish,  half  defiant, 
laid  a  package  on  the  table,  saying,  — 

"  Mother  says  she  sends  you  a  Merry  Christmas,  and 
many  of  'em.  I  Ve  brought  an  upholstery  along  for  you. 
I  made  it  myself." 

I  shook  hands  and  thanked  him,  whereupon  he  said, 
"All  right!"  and  retired.  On  opening  the  package,  I 
found  the  "  upholstery "  to  be  a  gigantic  hemispherical 
pincushion  of  scarlet  brocade,  set  in  a  gilt  octagonal  frame 
of  equal  massiveness.  A  number  of  new  pins,  rather  crook 
edly  forming  the  letters  "J.  G-.,"  were  already  inserted  in 
it.  It  was  almost  large  enough  for  a  footstool,  and  re 
minded  me  of  Hugh's  red  head  every  time  I  looked  at  it 
but  I  devoutly  gave  it  the  place  of  honor  on  my  toilet 
table. 

It  was  the  only  Christmas  gift  I  received  that  year. 


20 


306  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A    DINNER-PARTY    AT    DELMONICO'S. 

I  SAW  very  little  of  Penrose  for  some  weeks  after  our 
first  meeting.  He  was  much  occupied  with  his  arrange 
ments  for  entering  the  mercantile  firm  with  the  beginning 
of  the  coming  year,  and  these  arrangements  obliged  him 
to  revisit  Philadelphia  in  the  mean  time.  Matilda — or, 
rather,  Mr.  Edmund  Shanks  —  invited  me  to  dine  with 
them  at  the  St.  Nicholas,  but  pitched  upon  a  day  when  my 
duties  positively  prevented  my  acceptance  of  the  invita 
tion.  This  was  no  cause  of  regret,  for  I  was  not  drawn 
towards  my  cousin,  and  could  not  forgive  the  two  fingers  of 
her  husband.  For  Penrose  I  retained  much  of  the  old  at 
tachment,  but  his  nature  was  so  different  from  mine  that 
the  innermost  chamber  of  my  heart  remained  closed  at  his 
approach.  I  doubted  whether  it  ever  would  open. 

One  evening  in  December  he  called  upon  me  in  Bleeck- 
er  Street.  However  I  might  reason  against  his  haughti 
ness,  his  proud,  disdainful  air  when  he  was  absent,  one 
smile  from  those  superb  lips,  one  gentler  glance  from  those 
flashing  eyes  disarmed  me.  There  was  a  delicate  flattery, 
which  I  could  not  withstand,  in  the  fact  that  this  demigod  (in 
a  physical  sense),  with  his  air  of  conscious  power,  became 
human  for  me,  —  for  me,  alone,  of  all  his  acquaintances 
whom  I  knew,  laid  aside  his  mask.  Nothing  made  me  re 
spect  myself  so  much  as  the  knowledge  that  he  respected 
me. 

"  You  have  a  very  passable  den,  John,"  he  remarked, 
darting  a  quick,  keen  glance  around  my  room  ;  "  rather  a 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  307 

contrast  to  our  bed  in  Dr.  Dymond's  garret.  How  singu 
larly  things  turn  out,  to  be  sure  !  Which  of  us  would  have 
suspected  this  that  night  when  the  Doctor  made  me  share 
sheets  with  you  ?  Yet,  I  had  a  notion  then  that  you  would 
be  mixed  up  somehow  with  my  life." 

"  You  were  very  careful  not  to  give  me  any  hint  of  it," 
I  answered,  laughing. 

"  I  was  right.  Even  if  you  are  sure  that  an  impression 
is  a  prophetic  instinct,  not  a  mere  whim,  it  is  best  to  wait 
until  it  proves  itself.  Then  you  are  safe,  in  either  case. 
There  is  no  such  element  of  weakness  as  superfluous  frank 
ness.  I  don't  mean  that  it  would  have  done  any  harm,  in 
our  case,  but  when  I  deliberately  give  myself  a  rule  I  like 
to  stick  to  it.  Only  one  man  in  a  hundred  will  suspect  that 
you  have  an  emotion  when  you  don't  express  it.  You  are 
thus,  without  any  trouble,  master  of  the  ninety-nine,  and 
can  meet  the  hundredth  with  your' whole  strength." 

"Are  you  frank  now  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  John,"  said  he,  gravely,  "  don't,  I  beg  of  you,  play  at 
words  with  me.  I  will  confess  to  you  that  I  should  become 
morally  bids e  if  I  could  not,  once  in  a  year  or  so,  be  utterly 
candid  with  somebody.  I  'm  glad  you  give  me  the  chance, 
and  if  I  recommend  my  rule  to  you,  don't  turn  it  against 
me.  You  are  not  the  innocent  boy  I  knew  in  Honeybrook, 
— I  can  see  that,  plainly,  — but  you  are  an  innocent  man, 
compared  with  myself.  I  hope  there  will  always  be  this 
difference  between  us." 

"  I  can't  promise  that,  Alexander,"  I  said,  "  but  I  will 
promise  that  there  shall  be  no  other  difference." 

He  took  my  hand,  gave  it  a  squeeze,  and  then,  resuming 
his  usual  careless  tone,  said,  "  By  the  bye,  I  must  not  for 
get  one  part  of  my  errand.  Shanks  is  to  give  a  little  din 
ner  at  Delmonico's  next  Saturday,  —  ten  or  a  dozen  persons 
in  all,  —  and  he  wants  you  to  be  one  of  the  party.  Now, 
don't  look  so  blank ;  /  want  you  to  come.  Matilda  has 
been  reading  your  book,  and  she  has  persuaded  Shanks 


308  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

(who  knows  no  more  about  poetry  than  he  does  about 
horses,  though  he  buys  both)  that  you  are  a  great  genius. 
You  can  bother  him,  and  bring  him  to  your  feet  in  ten  sen 
tences,  if  you  choose.  The  dinner  will  be  something  su 
perb,  —  between  ourselves,  ten  dollars  par  convert,  without 
the  wine,  —  and  I  have  private  orders  from  Matilda  not  to 
accept  your  refusal,  on  any  pretext." 

I  frankly  told  Penrose  that  I  did  not  like  Shanks,  but 
would  accept  the  invitation,  if  he  insisted  upon  it,  rather 
than  appear  ungracious.  I  stipulated,  however,  that  we 
should  have  neighboring  seats,  if  possible. 

When  the  time  arrived,  I  took  an  omnibus  down  Broad 
way,  in  no  very  festive  humor.  I  anticipated  a  somewhat 
more  solemn  and  stiff  repetition  of  Mrs.  De  Peyster's  board 
and  its  flat,  flippant  conversation.  The  servant  conducted 
me  to  a  private  parlor  on  the  second  floor,  where  I  found 
the  host  and  most  of  th6  guests  assembled.  Matilda  wel 
comed  me  very  cordially  as  "  Cousin  Godfrey,"  and  Shanks 
this  time  gave  me  his  whole  hand  with  an  air  of  deference 
which  I  did  not  believe  to  be  real.  Knowing  Matilda's 
critical  exactness,  I  had  taken  special  pains  to  comply  with 
the  utmost  requirements  of  custom,  in  the  matter  of  dress 
and  manners,  and  if  my  demeanor  was  a  little  more  stiff 
than  usual,  I  am  sure  that  was  no  disparagement  in  the  eyes 
of  the  others.  My  apprenticeship  at  Mrs.  De  Peyster's 
table  had  done  me  good  service  ;  I  could  see  by  Penrose's 
eyes  that  I  acquitted  myself  creditably. 

The  remaining  guests  arrived  about  the  same  time.  We 
were  presented  to  each  other  with  becoming  formality,  and 
I  made  a  mechanical  effort  to  retain  the  names  I  heard,  for 
that  evening,  at  least.  They  were  only  important  'to  me 
for  the  occasion,  for  I  neither  expected  nor  cared  to  see 
any  of  them  again.  I  noticed  that  there  were  three  ladies 
besides  Matilda,  but  merely  glanced  at  them  indifferently 
until  the  name  "  Miss  Haworth "  arrested  my  attention, 
Then  I  recollected  the  violet  eyes,  the  low  white  brow, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  309 

and  the  rippling  light-brown  hair.  Seeing  a  quick  recog 
nition  in  her  face,  I  bowed  and  said,  "  I  have  already  had 
the  pleasure,  I  believe." 

At  these  words,  a  gentleman  standing  near  her,  to  whom 
I  had  not  yet  been  introduced,  turned  and  looked  at  me 
rather  sharply.  She  must  have  noticed  the  movement,  for 
she  said  to  me,  with  (I  thought)  a  slight  embarrassment  in 
her  tone,  "  My  brother,  Mr.  Floyd." 

Mr.  Floyd  bowed  stiffly,  without  offering  me  his  hand. 
I  was  amazed  to  find  that  he  could  be  the  brother  of  Miss 
Haworth,  —  so  different,  not  only  in  name  but  in  feature. 
I  looked  at  them  both  as  I  exchanged  the  usual  common 
places  of  an  incipient  acquaintance,  and  was  more  and  more 
convinced  that  there  could  be  no  relationship  between 
them.  His  face  struck  me  as  mean,  cunning,  and  sensual ; 
hers  frank,  pure,  and  noble.  It  was  a  different  type  of  face 
from  that  of  any  woman  I  remembered,  yet  the  strong  im- 
pres^sion  of  having  once  seen  it  before  returned  to  my  mind. 
I  was  surprised  at  myself  for  having  paid  so  little  attention 
to  her  when  we  first  met  in  Mr.  Clarendon's  house. 

Though  her  voice  had  that  calm,  even  sweetness  which 
I  have  always  considered  to  be  the  most  attractive  quality 
in  woman,  it  was  not  in  the  least  like  Amanda  Bratton's. 
Hers  would  have  sounded  thin  and  hard  after  its  full,  melt 
ing,  tremulous  music.  It  belonged  as  naturally  to  the 
beauty  of  her  lips  as  tint  and  pearly  enamel  to  a  sea-shell. 
Her  quiet,  unobtrusive  air  was  allied  to  a  self-possession 
almost  beyond  her  years,  —  for  she  could  not  have  been 
more  than  twenty.  Though  richly  and  fashionably  dressed, 
she  had  chosen  soft,  neutral  colors,  without  a  glitter  or 
sparkle,  except  from  the  sapphires  in  her  ears  and  at  her 
throat.  I  was  not  yet  competent  to  feel  a  very  enthusiastic 
admiration,  but  I  was  conscious  that  the  sight  of  her  filled 
me  with  a  pleasant  sense  of  comfort  and  repose. 

"Isabel,"  said  Mrs.  Shanks,  tapping  Miss  Haworth's 
shoulder  with  her  fan,  "  on  a  servi.  Will  you  take  Mr. 
Godfrey's  arm  ?  " 


310  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  bowed  and  crooked  my  elbow,  and  we  followed  the 
other  ladies  into  the  adjoining  room.  The  touch  of  the 
gloved  hand  affected  me  singularly  ;  I  know  not  what  soft, 
happy  warmth  diffused  itself  through  my  frame  from  that 
slight  point  of  contact.  The  magnetism  of  physical  near 
ness  never  before  affected  me  so  delicately  yet  so  power 
fully. 

Matilda  seated  the  guests  according  to  her  own  will,  and 
with  her  usual  tact.  Her  brother's  future  partners  were 
her  own  supporters,  while  Shanks  was  flanked  by  their 
wives.  Miss  Haworth  was  assigned  to  the  central  seat  on 
one  side  of  the  oval  table,  between  Penrose  and  myself, 
with  Mr.  Floyd  and  two  other  young  fashionables  facing  us. 
The  table  was  resplendent  with  cut-glass  and  silver,  and 
fragrant  with  gorgeous  piles  of  tropical  flowers  and  fruit, 
the  room  dazzling  with  the  white  lustre  of  gas,  and  the  ac 
complished  French  servants  glided  to  and  fro  with  stealthy 
elegance.  The  devil  of  Luxury  within  me  chuckled  and 
clapped  his  hands  with  delight.  If  Life  would  furnish  me 
with  more  such  dinners,  I  thought,  I  might  find  it  tolerably 
sunny.  f 

The  dinner  was  a  masterpiece  of  art.  Both  the  natural 
harmonies  and  the  conventional  stipulations  were  respect 
ed.  We  had  oysters  and  Chablis,  turtle-soup  succeeded  by 
glasses  of  iced  punch,  fish  and  sherry,  and  Riidesheimer, 
Clicquot,  Burgundy,  Lafitte,  and  liqueurs  in  their  proper 
succession,  accompanying  the  wondrous  alternation  of 
courses.  Hitherto,  I  had  been  rather  omniverous  in  my 
tastes,  —  only  preferring  good  things  to  bad,  —  but  now  I 
perceived  that  even  the  material  profession  of  cooking  had 
its  artistic  ideal. 

The  conversation,  as  was  meet,  ran  mostly  upon  the 
dishes  which  were  placed  before  us.  Mr.  Shanks  devel 
oped  an  immense  amount  of  knowledge  in  this  direction, 
affirming  that  he  had  given  special  directions  for  a  "single 
clove  of  garlic  to  be  laid  for  five  minutes  on  a  plate  with 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  311 

certain  cotelettes  en  papillotes,  under  a  glass  cover ;  that  the 
canvas-back  ducks  should  be  merely  carried  through  a  hot 
kitchen,  which  was  cooking  enough  for  them  ;  and  that  the 
riz  de  veau  would  have  been  ruined  if  he  had  not  procured, 
with  great  difficulty,  a  particular  kind  of  pea  which  only 
grew  in  the  neighborhood  of  Arras.  The  Lafitte,  he  said, 
was  "the  '34,  —  from  the  lower  part  of  the  hill;  Delmon- 
ico  won't  acknowledge  that  he  has  it,  unless  you  happen  to 
know,  and  even  then  it  's  a  great  favor  to  get  a  few  bot 
tles." 

"  Many  persons  can't  tell  the  '34  from  the  '46,"  said  one 
of  the  partners,  setting  the  rim  of  his  glass  under  his  nos 
trils  and  sniffing  repeatedly ;  "  but  you  notice  the  difference 
in  the  bouquet" 

It  really  seemed  to  me  that  this  voluptuous  discussion 
of  the  viands  as  they  appeared,  —  this  preliminary  tasting, 
this  lingering  enjoyment  of  the  rare  and  peculiar  qualities, 
this  prelusive  aroma  of  the  vine,  tempering  yet  fixing  its 
flavor,  —  constituted  an  aesthetic  accompaniment  which  bal 
anced  the  physical  task  of  the  meal  and  called  upon  the 
brain  to  assist  the  stomach.  I  drank  but  sparingly  of  the 
wines,  however,  being  warned  by  the  growing  flush  on  the 
faces  of  the  three  young  gentlemen  opposite,  and  restrained 
by  the  sweet,  sober  freshness  of  Miss  Haworth's  cheek,  at 
my  side. 

As  the  conversation  grew  riotous  in  tone,  and  laughter 
and  repartee  (mostly  of  a  stupid  character,  but  answering 
the  purpose  as  well  as  the  genuine  article)  ruled  the  table, 
my  gentle  neighbor  seemed  to  encourage  my  attempts  to 
withdraw  from  the  noisy  circle  of  talk  and  establish  a  quiet 
tete  a  fete  between  our  two  selves.  Penrose  was  occupied 
with  one  of  his  partners  and  Matilda  with  the  other ;  Mr. 
Floyd  was  relating  the  last  piece  of  scandal,  with  the  cor 
rections  and  additions  of  his  neighbors,  and  each  and  all 
so  absorbed  in  their  several  subjects  that  we  were  left  in 
comparative  privacy. 


312  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  Have  you  long  known  my  cousin,  Mrs.  Shanks  ? "  I 
asked. 

"  Only  familiarly  since  last  summer,  when  we  were  at 
Long  Branch  together.  We  had  met  before,  in  society, 
once  or  twice,  but  one  never  makes  acquaintances  in  that 
way." 

"  Do  you  think  we  can  ever  say  that  we  are  truly  ac 
quainted  with  any  one  ?  "  said  I. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  she  asked,  after  a  look  in  which  I  read  a 
little  surprise  at  the  question. 

I  felt  that  my  words  had  been  thrown  to  the  surface  from 
a  hidden  movement  of  dislike  to  the  society  present,  which 
lurked  at  the  bottom  of  my  mind.  They  shot  away  so  sud 
denly  and  widely  from  my  first  question  that  some  ex 
planation  was  necessary  ;  yet  I  could  not  give  the  true  one. 
She  waited  for  my  answer,  and  I  was  compelled  to  a  partial 
candor. 

"  I  believe,"  I  said,  "  that  the  word  '  acquainted  '  put  the 
question  into  my  head.  I  have  been  obliged  to  reverse  my 
first  impressions  so  often  that  it  seems  better  not  to  trust 
them.  And  I  have  really  wondered  whether  men  can  truly 
know  each  other." 

"  Perhaps  nearly  as  well  as  they  can  know  themselves," 
said  she.  "  When  I  see  some  little  vanity,  which  is  plain 
to  every  one  except  its  possessor,  I  fancy  that  the  same 
thing  may  very  easily  be  true  of  myself." 

"  You,  Miss  Haworth ! "  I  exclaimed. 

"  I  as  well  as  another.  You  do  not  suppose  that  I  con 
sider  myself  to  be  without  faults." 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  I  answered,  so  plumply  and  ear 
nestly  that  she  smiled,  looking  very  much  amused.  But 
the  fact  is,  I  had  made  a  personal  application  of  her  first 
remark,  and  answered  for  myself  rather  than  for  her.  Per 
ceiving  this,  I  could  not  help  smiling  in  turn. 

"  I  confess,"  I  said,  "  that  I  have  mine,  but  I  try  to  con 
ceal  them  from  others." 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  313 

"  And  you  would  be  very  angry  if  they  were  detected  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  would." 

"  Yet  all  your  friends  may  know  them,  nevertheless," 
said  she,  "  and  keep  silent  towards  you  as  you  towards  them. 
Do  you  think  universal  candor  would  be  any  better  ?  For 
my  part,  I  fancy  it  would  soon  set  us  all  together  by  the 
ears." 

"  Just  what  I  told  you,  John,"  said  Penrose,  striking  in 
from  the  other  side.  "  Candor  is  weakness." 

"  I  begin  to  think  so,  too,"  I  remarked  gloomily.  "  De 
ceit  seems  to  be  the  rule  of  the  world ;  I  find  it  wherever 
I  turn.  If  the  outside  of  the  sepulchre  shows  the  conven 
tional  whitewash,  it  makes  no  difference  how  many  skele 
tons  are  inside." 

I  took  up  a  little  glass  toy  which  stood  before  me,  filled, 
apparently,  with  green  oil.  It  slid  down  my  throat  like  a 
fiery,  perfumed  snake. 

"  Penrose  ! "  cried  Mr.  Floyd,  "  is  that  the  Chartreuse  be 
fore  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  former,  turning  the  bottle,  "  it 's  Cura- 
coa." 

"  Ah,  that  reminds  me,"  —  cried  Mr.  Shanks,  commencing 
a  fresh  story,  which  I  did  not  care  to  hear.  The  old  feel 
ing  of  sadness  and  depression  began  to  steal  over  me,  and 
the  loud  gayety  of  the  table  became  more  hollow  and  dis 
tasteful  than  ever. 

"  Mr.  Godfrey,"  said  Miss  Haworth,  a  little  timidly. 

I  looked  up.  Her  clear  violet  eyes  were  fixed  upon  me 
with  a  disturbed  expression,  and  there  may  have  been,  for 
a  second,  a  warmer  tinge  on  her  cheek,  as  she  addressed 
me,— 

"  I  am  afraid  you  misunderstood  me.  I  think  a  candid 
nature  is  the  highest  and  best.  I  only  meant  that  there  is 
no  use  in  constantly  reminding  our  friends,  or  they*  us,  of 
little  human  weaknesses.  We  may  be  candid,  certainly, 
without  ceasing  to  be  charitable." 


314  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  Yes,  we  may  be,"  I  said,  "  but  who  is  ?  Where  is  there 
a  nature  which  may  be  relied  upon,  first  and  forever  ?  I 
once  thought  the  world  was  full  of  such,  but  I  am  cured  of 
my  folly." 

The  trouble  in  her  eyes  deepened.  "  I  am  sorry  to  hear 
you  say  so,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  and  began  mechanically 
pulling  to  pieces  a  bunch  of  grapes. 

My  bitter  mood  died  in  an  instant.  I  felt  that  my  words 
were  not  only  false  in  themselves,  but  false  as  the  utterance 
of  my  belief.  There  were,  there  must  be,  truth  and  honor 
in  men  and  women ;  I  was  true,  and  was  there  no  other 
virtue  in  the  world  than  mine  ?  I  could  have  bitten  my 
tongue  for  vexation.  To  retract  my  expressions  on  the 
spot,  —  and  I  now  perceived  how  positively  they  had  been 
made,  —  would  prove  me  to  be  a  whimsical  fool,  and  Miss 
Haworth  must  continue  to  believe  me  the  negatist  I  seemed. 
In  vain  I  tried  to  console  myself  with  the  thought  that  it 
made  no  difference.  A  deeper  instinct  told  me  that  it  did, 
—  that  the  opinion  of  a  pure-hearted  girl  was  not  a  thing 
to  be  lightly  esteemed.  I  had  flattered  myself  on  the  social 
tact  I  had  acquired,  but  my  first  serious  conversation  told 
me  what  a  bungler  I  still  was,  in  allowing  the  egotism  of 
a  private  disappointment  to  betray  itself  and  misrepresent 
my  nature  to  another. 

While  these  thoughts  flashed  through  my  mind,  Pen- 
rose  had  commenced  a  conversation  with  Miss  Haworth. 
Glancing  around  the  table,  I  encountered  Matilda's  dark 
eyes.  "  Cousin  Godfrey  !  "  she  called  to  me,  "  how  do  you 
vote  ? ' —  shall  we  stay  or  go  ?  Edmund  always  sits  with 
his  head  in  a  cloud,  at  home,  and  very  often  Aleck  with 
him  ;  so  I  think  if  we  open  the  door  and  let  down  the  win 
dows,  the  atmosphere  will  be  endurable,  —  only  you  gen 
tlemen  generally  prefer  to  banish  us.  I  don  't  believe  it 's 
any  good  that  you  say  or  do  when  you  get  rid  of  us." 

"  Stay,"  said  I.  "  There  will  be  no  cloud  from  my  lips. 
Why  should  you  not  keep  your  seats,  and  let  the  gentle 
men  withdraw,  if  there  must  be  a  division  ?  " 


JOHN  GODFEEY'S  FORTUNES.  315 

"  Gallantly  spoken,  cousin.  But  I  see  that  Edmund  has 
the  consent  of  his  neighbors,  and  is  puffing  to  make  up  for 
lost  time.  I  congratulate  you  on  your  wives,  gentlemen : 
I  thought  I  was  the  only  veteran  present.  Isabel !  they 
are  not  driving  you  away,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ! "  said  Miss  Haworth,  who  had  risen  from  her 
seat ;  "  but  father  is  home  from  the  Club  by  this  time,  and 
he  always  likes  to  have  a  little  music  before  going  to  bed 
Tracy,  will  you  please  see  if  the  carriage  is  waiting  ?  " 

Mr.  Floyd  put  his  head  out  of  the  window  and  called, 
"  James  !  "  "  Here,  sir !  "  came  up  from  the  street,  and 
Miss  Haworth,  giving  a  hand  to  Matilda  and  her  husband, 
and  leaving  a  pleasant  "  Good-night ! "  for  the  rest  of  us, 
collectively,  glided  from  the  room.  Mr.  Shanks  escorted 
her  to  her  carriage. 

This  little  interruption  was  employed  by  the  company  as 
an  opportunity  to  change  their  places  at  the  table.  A  sign 
from  Matilda  called  me  to  an  empty  chair  beside  her. 

"  I  'in  so  glad  you  're  a  poet,  Cousin  Godfrey,"  she  said, 
—  "  the  first  in  our  family  ;  and  I  assure  you  we  have  need 
of  the  distinction  to  balance  the  mesalliance,  —  you  know 
all  about  it  from  Aleck,  though  you're  not  near  enough 
related  to  be  hurt  by  it  as  we  were.  I  think  we  shall  come 
to  New  York  to  live :  Edmund  prefers  it,  and  one  gets 
tired  of  Philadelphia  in  the  long  run.  We  have  plenty  of 
style  there,  to  be  sure ;  but  our  set  is  very  much  the  same 
from  year  to  year.  Here,  it  may  be  a  little  too  free,  too  — • 
qu*  est  ce  que  c'  est  ?  easy  of  entrance,  —  but  there  's  a  deal 
more  life  and  variety.  Don't  you  think  so  ?  but,  of  course, 
you  gentlemen  are  never  so  particular.  Society  would  fall 
into  ruin,  if  it  was  n't  for  us" 

"  It 's  very  well  you  save  society,  for  you  ruin  individu 
als,"  I  remarked. 

"  Hear  that,  Aleck  ! "  she  exclaimed  ;  "  I  did  n't  think  it 
was  in  him.  You  have  certainly  been  giving  him  lessons 
in  your  own  infidelity.  He  will  spoil  you,  Cousin  Godfrey." 


316  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Penrose  looked  at  me  and  laughed.  "  I  'm  glad  you  are 
a  match  for  'Till,  John,"  he  said.  "  If  I  've  taught  you,  the 
pupil  surpasses  the  teacher." 

Much  more  of  this  badinage  followed.  My  apprentice 
ship  to  words  and  phrases  gave  me  an  advantage  in  the 
use  of  it,  and  I  was  reckless  enough  to  care  little  what  I 
said,  so  that  my  words  had  some  point  and  brilliancy. 
Penrose  was  more  than  a  match  for  me,  but  he  consider 
ately  held  back  and  allowed  me  to  triumph  over  the  others. 
It  was  as  he  predicted  ;  I  brought  Mr.  Edmund  Shanks  to 
my  feet  in  ten  sentences.  He  called  me  "  Cousin  God 
frey,"  and  said,  repeatedly,  in  a  somewhat  thick  voice,  "  If 
you  only  smoked,  you  would  be  a  trump." 

"  He  '11  come  to  that  after  a  while  ;  he  can't  have  all  the 
virtues  at  once,"  remarked  Mr.  Floyd.  I  liked  neither  the 
tone  nor  the  look  of  the  man :  a  sneer  seemed  to  lurk 
under  his  light,  laughing  air.  He  was  one  of  the  two  or 
three  who  had  lighted  their  cigars,  and  substituted  brandy 
and  ice  for  the  soft,  fragrant  wines  of  Bordeaux.  A  sharp 
retort  rose  to  my  tongue,  but  I  held  it  back  from  an  instinct 
which  told  me  that  he  would  welcome  an  antagonism  /had 
authorized. 

It  was  near  midnight  when  the  guests  separated,  and  as 
we  descended  in  a  body  to  the  street,  we  found  the  three 
coachmen  asleep  on  their  boxes. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  get  in,  Aleck  ?  "  said  Matilda,  as 
Penrose  slammed  the  door. 

"  No  ;  I  am  going  to  walk  with  Godfrey.    Good-night !  " 

Mr.  Floyd  joined  us,  smoking  his  cigar,  humming  opera- 
tunes  and  commenting  freely  upon  the  company,  as  we 
walked  up  Broadway.  When  we  reached  the  corner  of 
Howard  Street,  he  muttered  something  about  an  engage 
ment,  and  turned  off  to  the  left. 

Penrose  laughed  as  he  gave  utterance  to  certain  sur 
mises,  in  what  seemed  to  me  a  very  cold-blooded  manner. 
He  took  my  arm  as  he  added :  "  I  don't  know  that  Floyd 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  317 

is  any  worse  than  most  of  the  young  New  Yorkers ;  but 
he  's  rather  a  bore  to  me,  and  I  'm  glad  to  get  rid  of  him. 
I  see  so  much  of  the  class  that  I  grow  tired  of  it,  —  yet  I 
suppose  I  belong  to  it  myself." 

"  Not  in  character,  Alexander ! "  I  protested :  "  you  have 
talent,  and  pride,  and  principle  !  " 

"  None  too  much  of  either,  unless  it  be  pride,"  he  said. 
"Take  care  you  don't  overrate  me.  I  can  be  intensely 
selfish,  and  you  may  discover  the  fact,  some  day.  What 
ever  I  demand  with  all  the  force  of  my  nature  I  must 
have,  and  will  trample  down  anything  and  anybody  that 
comes  between.  You  have  only  seen  the  mother's  blood 
in  me,  John.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  my  father's,  and  it  is 
bad." 

I  saw  the  dark  knitting  of  his  brows  in  the  lamplight, 
and  strove  to  turn  aside  the  gloomy  introversion  of  his 
mood.  "  How  is  it,"  I  asked,  "  that  this  Floyd  is  a  brother 
of  Miss  Haworth  ?  " 

"  Step-brother,  by  marriage/'  he  answered.  "  He  is  in 
reality  no  relation.  Old  Floyd  was  a  widower  with  one 
son  when  he  married  the  widow  Haworth,  —  some  ten 
years  ago,  I  believe :  Matilda  knows  all  about  it,  —  and 
the  boy  and  girl  called  themselves  brother  and  sister. 
The  old  man  has  a  stylish  house  on  Gramercy  Park,  but 
he  's  an  inveterate  stock-jobber,  and  has  failed  twice  in  the 
last  five  years.  I  suspect  she  keeps  up  the  establishment." 

"How?" 

"  She 's  an  heiress.  Two  thirds  of  her  father's  property 
were  settled  on  her,  —  some  hundreds  of  thousands,  I  've 
been  told.  No  wonder  Floyd  would  like  to  marry  her." 

"  He  ?  Is  it  possible  ?  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  That 's  the  gossip  ;  and  it  is  possible.  He  is  no  rela 
tion,  as  I  have  said,  but  I  fancy  she  has  a  mind  of  her  own. 
She  seems  to  be  a  nice,  sensible  girl.  What  do  you  think  ? 
You  saw  much  more  of  her  than  I  did." 

"  Sensible,  —  yes,"  said  I,  slowly,  for  I  had  in  fact  not 


318  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

decided  what  I  thought  of  her,  —  "  so  far  as  I  could  judge ; 
and  almost  beautiful.  But  her  face  puzzles  me  :  I  seem  to 
have  seen  it  already,  yet " 

Penrose  interrupted  me.  "  I  know  what  you  mean.  I 
saw  it,  also,  and  was  bothered  for  two  minutes.  The 
engraving  of  St.  Agnes,  from  somebody's  picture,  in  Gou- 
pil's  window.  It  is  very  like  her.  Here  is  the  St.  Nicho 
las  ;  won't  you  come  in  ?  Then  good-night,  old  fellow,  and 
a  clear  head  to  you  in  the  morning  ! " 

Yes  ;  that  was  it !  I  remembered  the  picture,  and  as  I 
walked  homeward  alone,  along  the  echoing  pavement,  I 
murmured  to  myself,  — 

"  The  shadows  of  the  convent-towers 

Slant  down  the  snowy  sward, 
Still  creeping  with  the  creeping  hours 
That  lead  me  to  niy  Lord." 

I  don't  know  what  strange,  poetic  whim  possessed  me, 
that  I  should  have  made  the  purchase  of  the  engraving 
my  first  business  on  Monday  morning. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  319 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

CONTAINING,  AMONG  OTHER   THINGS,   MY  VISIT  TO   THE 
ICHNEUMON. 

AFTER  the  first  of  January,  Penrose  became  a  member 
of  the  firm  of  Dunn,  Deering  &  Co.,  whose  tall  iron  ware 
house  on  Chambers  Street  is  known  to  everybody.  Having 
very  properly  determined  to  master  the  details  of  the  busi 
ness  at  the  start,  he  was  so  constantly  occupied  that  I  saw 
little  of  him  for  two  or  three  months  thereafter.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Shanks  lingered  still  a  few  weeks  before  returning  to 
Philadelphia,  but  their  time  was  mostly  devoted  to  up-town 
balls,  which  I  had  no  wish  to  attend,  although  Matilda  of 
fered  herself  as  godmother  of  my  social  baptism.  My  days 
and  the  greater  part  of  my  nights  were  appropriated,  and 
by  no  means  unpleasantly,  to  my  business  duties.  Little 
by  little,  I  found  my  style  increasing  in  point  and  fluency, 
and  the  subjects  assigned  to  my  pen  began  to  present  them 
selves  in  a  compact,  coherent  form.  I  was  proud  enough 
not  to  accept  an  increase  of  salary  without  endeavoring  to 
render  adequate  service,  and  thus  the  exertions  I  made  re 
warded  themselves. 

In  my  case,  Schiller's  "  Occupation,  which  never  wearies 
—  which  slowly  creates,  and  destroys  nothing,"  was  a  help 
ing  and  protecting  principle,  —  how  helpful,  indeed,  I  was 
yet  to  learn.  I  had  been  wounded  too  deeply  to  wear  a 
painless  scar ;  the  old  smart  came  back,  from  time  to  time, 
to  torment  me,  —  but  my  life  was  much  more  cheerful  than 
I  could  have  anticipated.  My  affections  still  lacked  an 
object,  constantly  putting  forth  tendrilled  shoots  to  wither 
in  the  air,  but  my  intellectual  ambition  began  to  revive, 
though  in  a  soberer  form.  I  had  still  force  enough  to  con- 


320  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

trol  the  luxurious  cravings  of  my  physical  nature,  —  the 
thirst  for  all  the  enjoyments  of  sense,  which  increased  with 
my  maturing  blood.  When  I  coveted  wealth,  I  was  aware 
that  it  was  not  alone  for  the  sake  of  leisure  for  study  and 
opportunities  of  culture ;  it  was  for  the  wine  as  well  as  the 
bread  of  Life.  I  saw  that  velvet  made  a  pleasanter  seat 
than  wood  ;  that  pheasants  tasted  better  than  pork  ;  that  a 
box  at  the  opera  was  preferable  to  leaning  out  of  a  garret- 
window  and  listening  to  Casta  diva  played  on  a  hand-organ, 
—  in  short,  that  indulgence  of  every  kind  was  more  agree 
able  than  abstinence. 

I  know  that  many  good  people  will  draw  down  their 
brows  and  shake  their  heads  when  they  read  this  confes 
sion.  But  I  beg  them  to  remember  that  I  am  not  preach 
ing,  nor  even  moralizing ;  I  am  simply  stating  the  facts  of 
my  life.  Nay,  the  fact,  I  am  sure,  of  most  lives ;  for,  al 
though  I  do  not  claim  to  be  better,  I  steadfastly  protest 
against  being  considered  worse,  than  the  average  of  men. 
Therefore,  you  good  people,  whose  lips  overflow  with  pro 
fessions  of  duty  towards  your  fellow-beings,  and  the  beauty 
of  self-denial,  and  the  sin  of  indulgence,  look,  I  pray  you, 
into  your  own  hearts,  whether  there  be  no  root  of  the  old 
weed  remaining,  —  whether  some  natural  appetite  do  not, 
now  and  then,  still  send  up  a  green  shoot  which  it  costs 
you  some  trouble  to  cut  off,  —  before  weighing  my  youth  in 
your  balance.  It  is  no  part  of  my  plan  to  make  of  myself 
an  immaculate  hero  of  romance.  I  fear,  alas  !  that  I  am 
not  a  hero  in  any  sense.  I  have  touched  neither  the  deeps 
nor  the  heights  :  I  have  only  looked  down  into  the  one  and 
up  towards  the  other,  in  lesser  vibrations  on  either  side  of 
that  noteless  middle  line  which  most  men  travel  from  birth 
to  death. 

My  affection  for  Swansford  kept  alive  in  my  heart  a  faint 
but  vital  faith  in  the  existence  of  genuine  emotions.  I  saw 
him  once  a  week,  for  we  had  agreed  to  spend  our  Sunday 
afternoons  together,  alternately,  in  each  other's  rooms.  He 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  321 

still  disposed  of  an  occasional  song,  as  I  of  a  story,  but  his 
great  work  was  not  completed,  —  had  not  been  touched  for 
months,  he  informed  me.  He  was  subject  to  fits  of  pro 
found  dejection,  which,  I  suspected,  proceeded  from  a  phys 
ical  cause.  He  was  decidedly  paler  and  thinner  than  when 
I  first  made  his  acquaintance.  The  drudgery  of  his  lessons 
frequently  rendered  him  impatient  and  irritable,  and  he 
was  anxious  to  procure  a  situation  as  organist,  which  would 
yield  enough  to  support  him  in  his  humble  way.  I  wanted 
to  bring  him  together  with  Penrose,  in  the  hope  that  the 
latter  might  be  able  to  assist  him,  but  feared  to  propose  a 
meeting  to  two  such  diverse  characters,  and,  up  to  this 
time,  accident  had  not  favored  my  plan. 

The  Friday  evening  receptions  of  Mrs.  Yorkton  —  I  beg 
pardon,  Adeliza  Choate  —  continued  to  be  given,  but  I  did 
not  often  attend  them.  I  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
obtain  entrance  to  the  literary  soirees  of  another  lady  whom 
I  will  not  name,  but  whose  tact,  true  refinement  of  charac 
ter,  and  admirable  culture  drew  around  her  all  that  was 
best  in  letters  and  in  the  arts.  In  her  salons  I  saw  the,  pos 
sessors  of  honored  and  illustrious  names ;  I  heard  books 
and  pictures  discussed  with  the  calm  discrimination  of  in 
telligent  criticism ;  the  petty  vanities  and  jealousies  I  had 
hitherto  encountered  might  still  exist,  but  they  had  no 
voice ;  and  I  soon  perceived  the  difference  between  those 
who  aspire  and  those  who  achieve.  Art,  I  saw,  has  its  own 
peculiar  microcosm,  —  its  born  nobles,  its  plodding,  consci 
entious,  respectable  middle-class,  and  its  clamorous,  fighting 
rabble.  To  whatever  class  I  might  belong,  I  could  not  shut 
my  eyes  to  the  existing  degrees,  and  much  of  my  respect 
for  the  coarse  assertion  of  Smithers,  the  petulant  conceit 
of  Danforth,  and  the  extravagant  inspiration  of  the  once 
adored  Adeliza  evaporated  in  the  contrast. 

To  Brandagee  all  these  circles  seemed  to  be  open ;  yet 
I  could  not  help  noticing  that  he  preferred  those  where  his 
superior  experience  made  him  at  once  an  authority  and  a 
21 


322  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

fear.  The  rollicking  devil  in  him  was  impatient  of  restraint, 
and  he  had  too  much  tact  to  let  it  loose  at  inopportune  times 
and  places.  I  sometimes  met  him  in  those  delightful  rooms 
which  no  author  or  artist  who  lived  in  New  York  at  that 
time  can  have  forgotten,  and  was  not  surprised  to  see  that, 
even  in  his  subdued  character,  he  still  inspired  a  covetable 
interest.  He  now  came  to  the  Wonder  office  but  seldom. 
He  could  never  be  relied  upon  to  have  his  articles  ready 
at  the  appointed  time,  and  there  had  been  some  quarrel 
between  him  and  Mr.  Clarendon,  in  consequence  of  which 
he  transferred  his  services  to  the  Avenger.  I  had  become 
such  a  zealous  disciple  of  the  former  paper  that  I  looked 
upon  this  transfer  as  almost  involving  a  sacrifice  of  prin 
ciple.  Mr.  Clarendon,  however,  seemed  to  care  little  about 
it,  for  he  did  not  scruple  still  to  send  to  Brandagee  for  an 
article  on  some  special  subject. 

He  had  at  one  time  a  scheme  for  publishing  a  small 
fashionable  daily,  to  be  devoted  to  the  opera  and  the  drama, 
artistic  and  literary  criticism,  the  turf,  dress,  and  other 
kindred  subjects ;  the  type  and  paper  to  be  of  the  utmost 
elegance,  and  the  contents  to  rival  in  epigrammatic  bril 
liancy,  boldness,  and  impertinence  the  best  productions  of 
the  Parisian  feuilletonistes.  Had  the  wealth  of  many  of 
the  New  York  families  been  any  index  of  their  culture,  the 
scheme  might  have  succeeded,  but  it  was  too  hazardous  to 
entrap  any  publisher  of  sufficient  means.  He  then  deter 
mined  to  repeat  the  attempt  in  a  less  ambitious  form,  —  a 
weekly  paper  instead  of  a  daily,  —  which  would  involve 
little  preliminary  expense,  and  might  be  easily  dropped  if 
it  failed  to  meet  expectations.  It  was  to  be  called  "  The  City 
Oracle" and  to  bear  the  familiar  quotation  from  Shakspeare 
as  its  device.  I  had  heard  Brandagee  discuss  the  plan 
with  Mr.  Withering  (who  decidedly  objected  to  it,  very 
much  preferring  a  Quarterly  Review),  and  had  promised, 
incidentally,  to  contribute  a  sketch  for  the  first  number, 
if  it  should  ever  make  its  appearance. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  323 

Towards  the  close  of  winter,  —  I  think  it  was  in  Feb 
ruary,  —  I  met  Brandagee  one  evening,  as  he  was  issuing 
from  the  Smithsonian,  cigar  in  mouth,  as  usual. 

"  Ha !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  I  was  this  moment  thinking  of 
you.  You  have  nothing  to  do  at  this  hour,  —  come  around 
with  me  to  the  Ichneumon.  We  are  going  to  talk  over 
The  Oracle.  Babcock  has  as  good  as  promised  to  under 
take  the  publication." 

"  Indeed  ?  "  said  I.  "  When  will  you  begin  ?  " 
"  The  first  number  ought  to  appear  within  ten  or  twelve 
days.  That  will  leave  me  three  weeks  of  the  opera  season, 
—  long  enough  to  make  a  sensation,  and  have  the  paper 
talked  about.  Notoriety  is  the  life  of  a  new  undertaking  of 
this  kind.  I  can  count  on  six  pens  already,  including  yours 
and  my  own.  In  fact,  I  could  do  the  whole  work  alone  on  a 
pinch ;  though  I  don't  profess  to  be  equal  to  Souville.  You 
never  heard  of  Thersite  Souville,  I  dare  say :  he  wrote  the 
whole  of  Gargantua,  —  just  such  a  paper  as  I  intend  to 
make  my  Oracle,  —  editorials,  criticisms,  gossip  and  feuille- 
ton  ;  and  everybody  supposed  that  the  best  intellect  in  Paris 
was  employed  upon  it,  regardless  of  expense.  He  was  up 
to  any  style,  but  he  always  changed  his  beverage  with  his 
pen.  For  the  manner  of  Sue,  he  drank  hot  punch ;  for 
Dumas,  cider  mousseux  ;  Gautier  or  De  Musset,  absinthe  ; 
Paul  de  Kock,  Strasburg  beer,  —  and  so  on.  It  was  a  great 
speculation  for  his  publisher,  who  cleared  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  francs  a  year,  one  third  of  which  was  Sou- 
ville's  share.  If  he  had  not  been  so  vain  as  to  blab  the 
secret,  he  might  have  kept  it  up  to  this  day.  Come  on ; 
you  '11  find  all  my  coadjutors  at  the  Ichneumon." 

"  Where  is  the  Ichneumon,"  I  asked,  "  and  what  is  it  ?  " 
"  Not  know  it !  You  are  a  green  Bohemian.  Close  at 
hand^  in  Crosby  Street.  The  name  is  my  suggestion,  and 
I  'm  rather  proud  of  it.  When  the  landlord  —  Miles,  who 
used  to  be  bar-tender  at  the  '  Court  of  Appeals  '  —  took 
his  new  place,  he  was  puzzled  to  get  a  title,  as  all  the 


324          JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

classic  epithets,  Shades,  Pewter  Mugs,  Banks,  Houses  of 
Commons,  Nightingales,  Badgers,  and  Dolphins,  were  appro 
priated  by  others.  I  offered  to  give  him  a  stunning  name, 
in  consideration  of  occasional  free  drinks.  I  first  hit  on  the 
Ornithorhynchus  paradoxus,  which  was  capital ;  but  Miles 
was  fool  enough  to  think  that  nobody  could  ever  pronounce 
or  remember  it.  Then  I  gave  him  the  Ichneumon,  with 
which  he  was  satisfied,  —  he,  as  well  as  all  Crosby  Street, 
calls  it '  Ike  Newman.'  I  've  persuaded  him  to  give  us  a 
backroom,  and  keep  a  bed  up-stairs  for  any  fellow  who  is 
boozy  or  belated.  We  shall  make  a  classic  place  of  it, 
and  if  the  Oracle  once  fairly  open  its  mouth,  the  croco 
diles  must  look  out  for  their  eggs  ! " 

We  reached  the  house,  almost  before  he  had  done  speak 
ing.  It  was  an  old-fashioned  brick  dwelling,  the  lower  story 
of  which  had  been  altered  to  suit  the  requirements  of  the 
times.  An  octagonal  lantern,  on  the  front  glass  of  which 
an  animal  "  very  like  a  weasel "  was  painted,  hung  over 
the  door,  and  through  the  large  adjoining  window  there 
was  a  spectral  vision  of  a  bar  somewhere  in  the  shadowy 
depths  of  the  house. 

The  landlord  was  leaning  over  the  counter,  talking  to  a 
group  of  flashy  gents,  as  we  entered.  He  had  the  unmis 
takable  succulent  flesh  and  formless  mouth  of  an  English 
man,  but  with  his  hair  closely  cropped  behind,  and  the  back 
of  his  neck  shaved  in  a  straight  line  around  from  ear  to 
ear,  like  a  Bowery  boy. 

"  Miles,"  said  Brandagee,  "  another  of  us,  —  Mr.  God 
frey." 

"  Y'r  most  obedient  —  'ope  to  see  you  often,"  said  Miles, 
rising  to  an  erect  posture  and  giving  me  his  hand. 

"  Anybody  in  the  Cave,  Miles  ?  " 

"  There  's  three  gents,  Mr.  Brandagee,  —  Smithers,  for 
one,  the  painter  chap,  and  the  heavy  gent." 

"  Come  on,  then,  Godfrey,"  said  Brandagee,  laughing. 
"  It 's  Ponder  and  Smears.  I  '11  bet  a  thousand  ducats  Pon- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES,  325 

der  wants  to  help  us  out,  but,  between  you  and  me,  his 
didactics  would  be  a  millstone  around  our  necks.  I  '11  man 
age  him.  This  is  the  way  to  the  Cave  —  of  Trophonius, 
you  understand." 

He  entered  a  narrow  passage  on  the  right  of  the  bar, 
pushed  open  with  his  foot  a  door  at  the  further  end,  and 
we  found  ourselves  in  a  room  of  tolerable  size,  with  a  dense 
blue  atmosphere  which  threatened  to  eclipse  the  two  sickly 
gas-lights.  Smithers  had  untied  his  scarlet  cravat,  and, 
with  head  thrown  back  over  the  top  of  his  arm-chair,  suf 
fered  his  huge  meerschaum  pipe,  lazily  held  between  his 
teeth,  to  dangle  against  his  hairy  throat.  Mr.  S.  Hears 
was  drawing  his  portrait  in  a  condition  of  classic  nudity,  on 
the  margin  of  a  newspaper,  with  the  end  of  a  burnt  match. 
Mr.  Ponder,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table,  was  talking,  and 
evidently  in  as  heavy  a  style  as  he  wrote.  Both  the  latter 
were  smoking.  All  three  started  up  briskly  in  their  seats 
at  our  entrance. 

"  Ouf ! "  puffed  Brandagee,  with  an  expiration  of  delight. 
"  Well  done !  This  reminds  me  of  the  salon  des  nuages,  as 
Frederic  Soulie  called  it,  in  the  rear  of  the  Cafe  Dore.  We 
used  to  hire  two  or  three  of  the  servants  to  smoke  in  it  for 
an  hour  before  our  arrival.  It  was  a  special  close  commu 
nion  of  our  own,  and  there  was  competition  to  get  admitted, 
though  few  could  stand  the  test.  Cherubini  had  to  leave 
in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  as  for  Delacroix,  I  never  saw 
a  sicker  man.  Let  us  improve  this  atmosphere  before  the 
others  come.  Here,  Godfrey,  is  a  claro  ;  don 't  be  afraid,  — 
you  must  commence  some  day." 

I  lighted  the  cigar,  and  made  a  feint  of  smoking  it.  But 
I  never  could  acquire  any  liking  for  the  habit,  and  my  as 
sociates,  after  finding  that  I  always  spoiled  an  entire  cigar 
in  the  process  of  burning  half  an  inch,  finally  ceased  to 
waste  any  more  upon  me. 

"  Well,  Godfrey,"  said  Brandagee,  turning  to  me,  "  since 
you  are  to  be  one  of  us,  we  '11  take  your  initiation  fee." 


326  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  What  shall  it  be  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  we  won't  be  hard  upon  you.  Beer  through  the 
evening,  with  a  modest  bowl  of  punch  as  a  stirrup-cup." 

He  rang  a  bell  as  he  spoke,  and  we  were  all  presently 
supplied  with  corpulent  mugs.  There  were  two  other  ar 
rivals,  —  one  a  reporter  of  the  Avenger,  the  other  a  young 
gentleman  who  had  a  clerkship  in  the  Custom-House  and 
wrote  for  the  magazines.  I  found  myself  more  at  home  in 
this  company  than  at  Mrs.  Yorkton's.  Though  there  was 
rather  a  repellant  absence  of  sentiment,  there  was,  at  least, 
nothing  of  the  mock  article.  Nobody  attempted  to  play  a 
part,  knowing  the  absurdity  of  wearing  a  mask  behind  the 
curtain,  and  suspecting  how  soon  it  would  be  torn  off,  if  at 
tempted.  Thus  the  conversation,  if  occasionally  coarse,  if 
unnecessarily  profane,  if  scoffing  and  depreciative  of  much 
that  I  knew  to  be  good  and  noble,  was  always  lively,  racy, 
and  entertaining.  I  surmised  that  my  associates  were  not 
the  best  of  men ;  but  then,  on  the  other  hand,  they  were 
not  bores. 

The  plan  of  the  Oracle  was  first  discussed.  Each  one, 
I  perceived,  was  quite  willing  to  dictate  the  best  possible 
programme  ;  but  Brandagee  steadily  kept  before  them  the 
fact  that  he  was  the  originator  of  the  idea,  and  would  resent 
dictation,  while  he  was  willing  to  receive  susfsrestions.  Be- 

7  O  OO 

sides,  Babcock,  the  publisher,  had  not  yet  fully  committed 
himself,  and  it  all  might  end  in  smoke.  His  own  specialty 
of  musical  and  dramatic  criticism  was  an  understood  mat 
ter  ;  Mears  was  to  undertake  the  art  notices  ("  he  paints 
badly,  and  therefore  he  is  tolerably  sure  to  write  well," 
Brandagee  whispered  to  me)  ;  the  Avenger  reporter  was 
selected  to  prepare  the  city  gossip,  while  to  the  clerk  and 
myself  was  allotted  the  writing  of  short,  lively  stories  or 
sketches  of  character  for  the  first  page.  There  now  only 
remained  Smithers  and  Ponder  to  be  disposed  of.  The 
former  of  these  informed  us  that  he  was  willing  to  con 
tribute  passages  from  his  "  Edda  of  the  Present,"  an  heroic, 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  327 

muscular  poem,  in  irregular  metre ;  and  the  latter  thought 
that  an  essay  on  "  The  Influence  of  Literature  upon  Na 
tional  Character  "  would  be  an  indispensable  feature  of  the 
new  journal. 

"  Not  in  the  first  number,"  replied  Brandagee  ;  "  that 
must  be  all  foam  and  sparkle.  I  don't  contemplate  many 
heavy  articles  at  any  time.  It  might  do  for  Vienna.  When 
my  old  friend  Grillparzer  founded  his  light  SonntagsUatt, 
—  something  like  the  Oracle  in  form,  —  he  began  with  arti 
cles  on  Hegel's  Philosophy,  the  Cretan-Doric  dialect,  the 
religion  of  the  Ostiaks  and  a  biography  of  Paracelsus.  Lo 
cality  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world.  We  are  nearer 
the  latitude  of  Paris  than  any  other  capital,  and  there,  if 
anything  new  has  a  didactic  smell,  the  public  won't  touch 
it." 

"But  the  national  feeling  "  —  commenced  Mr.  Ponder. 

"  Very  well  for  the  rural  districts  ;  I  don't  find  much  of 
it  here.  We  are  cosmopolitan,  which  is  better.  If  I  were 
beginning  in  Boston  I  would  give  you  eight  columns  —  four 
for  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  and  four  for  a  description  of  the 
Common,  as  viewed  from  Bunker  Hill  Monument ;  or  if  it 
were  Philadelphia,  you  should  write  a  solid  article,  setting 
forth  the  commercial  decline  of  New  York,  —  but  here  we 
care  for  nothing  which  does  not  bring  a  sensation  with  it. 
We  are  not  provincial,  not  national,  not  jealous  of  our 
neighbors ;  we  live,  enjoy,  and  pay  roundly  in  order  to  be 
diverted.  The  Oracle  must  be  smart,  pert,  hinting  what 
may  not  properly  be  said  outright,  never  behind  with  the 
current  scandal,  and  brilliantly,  not  stupidly,  impudent. 
With  these  qualities  it  can't  fail  to  be  a  success.  It  will 
be  a  tongue  which  hundreds  of  people  would  pay  well  to 
keep  from  wagging." 

"  The  devil !  "  exclaimed  Mears  ;  "  do  you  mean  to  make 
a  black-mail  concern  of  it  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  so  quick  on  the  trigger,  young  man  !  I  merely 
referred  to  the  power  which  we  should  hold.  A  thing  may 


328  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

be  bid  for,  but  you  are  not  obliged  to  sell  it.  In  the  way 
of  advertising,  however,  there  would  be  great  and  certain 
profits ;  we  might  enter  into  competition  with  Napoleon  B. 
Quigg,  or  Gouraud's  medicated  epic.  There  are  scores  of 
retail  dry-goods  merchants  who  would  give  fifty  dollars  a 
piece  to  have  their  establishments  mentioned  in  a  novel  or 
a  play.  I  have  a  grand  scheme  for  raising  the  wind,  but 
I  won't  disclose  it  to  you  just  now." 

Our  mugs  were  replenished,  and  Brandagee,  who  seemed 
to  be  in  the  mood  for  a  harangue,  went  on  again. 

"  There  's  plenty  of  money  in  the  world,"  he  said,  "  if  it 
were  only  in  the  right  hands.  Of  all  forms  of  Superstition 
which  exist,  that  concerning  money  is  the  most  absurd. 
It  is  looked  upon  as  something  sacred,  —  something  above 
intellect,  humanity,  or  religion.  Yet  it  is  an  empty  form 
—  a  means  of  transfer,  being  nothing  in  itself — like  the 
red  flame,  which  is  no  substance,  only  representing  the 
change  of  one  substance  into  another.  You  never  really 
possess  it  until  you  spend  it.  What  is  it  to  knowledge,  to 
the  results  of  experience,  or  the  insight  of  genius  ?  But 
you  come  to  me  for  advice  or  information  which  cannot  be 
bought  in  the  market,  —  the  value  of  which  gold  cannot 
represent ;  I  give  it  and  you  go  your  way.  Then  I  borrow 
a  hundred  dollars  from  your  useless  surplus  ;  you  oblige  me 
to  sign  a  note  payable  in  so  many  days,  and  consider  me 
dishonored  if  I  fail  to  meet  it !  Why  should  I  not  take  of 
your  matter  as  freely  as  you  of  my  spirit  ?  Why  should 
this  meanest  of  substances  be  elevated  to  such  mysterious 
reverence  ?  They  only  who  turn  it  to  the  enrichment  of 
their  lives  —  who  use  it  as  a  gardener  does  manure,  for  the 
sake  of  the  flowers  —  have  the  abstract  right  to  possess  it. 
Jenkins  has  a  million,  but  never  buys  a  book  or  a  picture, 
does  n't  know  the  taste  of  Burgundy,  and  can't  tell  '  Yan 
kee  Doodle '  from  '11  mio  tesoro '  —  does  that  money  belong 
to  him  ?  No,  indeed,  —  it  is  mine,  ours,  everybody's  who 
understands  how  to  set  it  in  motion  and  bring  the  joy  and 
the  beauty  of  life  bubbling  up  to  the  surface  ! " 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  329 

"  Bravo  ! "  cried  the  others,  evidently  more  than  half  in 
clined  to  be  of  the  same  way  of  thinking.  I  did  not  sup 
pose  that  Brundagee  was  entirely  in  earnest,  but  I  was  fas 
cinated  by  the  novelty  of  his  views,  and  unable,  at  the  time, 
to  detect  wherein  they  were  unsound. 

"  Do  you  know,  fellows,"  he  continued,  "  that  our  lives 
are  far  more  in  accordance  with  the  pervading  spirit  of 
Christianity  than  those  of  the  men  who  devote  themselves 
to  earning  and  hoarding  ?  We  are  expressly  commanded 
to  take  no  thought  for  the  morrow.  There  is  nowhere  in 
the  Bible  a  commendation  of  economy,  of  practical  talent, 
even  of  industry  in  a  secular  sense.  It  was  so  understood 
in  the  early  ages  of  Christianity,  and  the  devotees  who 
adopted  lazy  contemplation  as  a  profession  never  starved  to 
death.  Perhaps  they  lived  better  than  the  contemporary 
men  of  business.  I  don't  mean  that  their  ways  would  suit 
us,  but  then  they  lived  out  their  own  idea,  and  that 's  all  we 
can  do.  Work,  and  the  worry  that  conies  with  it,  are  relics 
of  paganism.  The  stupid  masses  always  were,  and  will  be, 
pagans,  and  it  was  meant  that  they  should  labor  in  order  to 
give  leisure  to  what  little  intelligence  there  is  in  the  world. 
If  they  are  stiff-necked  and  rebellious,  I  hold  that  there  is 
no  particular  harm  in  using  our  superior  cunning  to  obtain 
what  justly  belongs  to  us.  Suppose  they  make  an  outcry  ? 
Of  course  they  look  at  the  subject  from  their,  which  is  the 
lower,  the  pagan  point  of  view.  Pagans,  you  are  aware, 
have  no  rights  which  elected  Christians  are  bound  to  re 
spect." 

Brandagee  had  trenched,  before  he  was  aware  of  it,  on 
the  favorite  hobby  of  Smithers.  The  latter  began  to  puff 
furiously  at  his  meerschaum,  now  and  then  snorting  the 
smoke  from  his  nostrils  in  long  blue  lines. 

"  It 's  a  bit  of  adroit  sophistry  ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  These 
pagans,  as  you  call  them,  with  their  strong  bones,  their 
knotted  muscles,  their  thick  cerebellums  and  their  cast-iron 
stomachs,  are  the  very  men  who  understand  how  to  use  life. 


330  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

They  could  soon  crush  out  your  scanty  breed  of  forced  and 
over-refined  Epicureans,  if  they  cared  to  do  it :  you  should 
be  glad  that  they  suffer  you  to  exist.  What  you  call  work 
is  only  the  sportive  overplus  of  their  colossal  energy.  If 
they  did  not  keep  alive  the  blood  of  the  race,  which  you 
are  trying-  all  the  while  to  exhaust,  there  would  soon  be, 
not  only  an  end  of  Art  and  Literature,  but  an  end  of  Man 
on  this  planet !  " 

"  Smithers,"  said  Brandagee,  coolly,  "  if  you  would  take 
a  little  more  of  the  blood  that  circulates  in  your  big  body 
and  send  it  in  the  direction  of  your  brains,  you  would  see 
that  you  have  not  come  within  a  mile  of  meeting  my  asser 
tion.  I  take  you  as  my  living  verification.  You  like  work 
no  better  than  the  rest  of  us,  and  you  mix  with  your  steve 
dores  and  sailors  and  'longshoremen  only  to  exploit  them 
in  your  '  Edda.'  I  have  often  seen  you,  sitting  on  a  pier 
head  with  your  pipe  in  your  mouth,  but  I  don't  believe  that 
'  the  sportive  overplus  of  your  colossal  energy '  ever  incited 
you  to  handle  a  single  bale  or  barrel.  I  don't  object  to 
your  hobby :  it 's  a  good  one  to  ride,  so  far  as  the  public  is 
concerned,  but  we,  here  in  the  Cave,  understand  each  other, 
I  take  it." 

Smithers  began  to  grow  red  about  the  gills,  and  would 
have  resented  the  insinuation,  but  for  the  opportune  arrival 
of  Miles,  bearing  a  curiously-shaped  vessel  of  some  steam 
ing  liquid  and  fresh  glasses.  The  interest  which  these 
objects  excited  absorbed  the  subject  of  debate.  Mears 
threw  himself  into  a  statuesque  attitude  and  exclaimed  in  a 
Delphic  voice,  "  The  offering  is  accepted ;  "  while  Branda 
gee  chanted,  — 

"  Fill  the  cup  and  fill  the  can, 
Have  a  rouse  before  the  morn," 

and  all  shoved  their  glasses  together  under  the  nose  of  the 
ladle. 

"  Here,  Godfrey,"  said  Brandagee,  striking  his  glass 
against  mine,  "welcome  and  acceptance  from  the  mystic 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  331 

brotherhood !  Here  you  have  your  money,  as  I  was  ex 
plaining  :  it  has  taken  form  at  last,  instead  of  lying,  as  a 
dry  idea,  in  the  pocket.  I  hold  that  we  have  the  right  to 
seize  on  shadows  wherever  we  find  them,  for  the  sake  of 
converting  them  into  substance.  Hence,  if  a  man  thinks  I 
am  taking  away  his  shadow,  in  the  Peter  Schlemihl  sense, 
let  him  apply  the  law  of  similia  similibus,  and  parting  with 
another  shadow  shall  give  him  peace  of  mind.  ^This  you, 
Smears,  would  call  levying  black-mail.  But  you  artists 
always  take  the  gross,  material  view  of  things,  — it  belongs 
to  you.  The  senses  of  Color  and  Form  are  not  intellectual 
qualities.  Never  mind,  I  mean  no  disparagement.  The 
value  of  mind  is  that  it  teaches  us  how  to  make  the  right 
use  of  matter ;  so  we  all  come  back  to  the  same  starting- 
point." 

The  conversation  now  became  general  and  noisy,  and  I 
will  not  undertake  to  report  it  further.  In  fact,  I  have  but 
an  indistinct  recollection  of  what  followed,  except  that 
some  time  after  midnight  we  parted  affectionately  at  the 
corner  of  Spring  Street  and  Broadway.  The  next  morn 
ing  I  arose  heavy  in  head,  but  light  in  purse,  —  so  much 
lighter  that  I  suspect  the  punch-bowl  was  filled  more  than 
once  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 

Various  impediments  prevented  The  Oracle  from  ap 
pearing  before  the  close  of  the  opera  season,  and  the  plan 
was  therefore  suspended  until  the  next  fall.  But  the  Cave 
of  Trophonius  still  existed,  under  the  guardianship  of  the 
Ichneumon,  and  I  often  seized  an  hour  to  enjoy  forge  t- 
fulness  of  the  present,  in  the  lawless  recklessness  of  the 
utterance  to  which  it  was  dedicated. 


332  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

IN    WHICH    I    TALK    WITH    TWO    GIRLS    AT    A    VERY    SOCIA 
BLE    PARTY. 

I  HAVE  said  that  I  still  felt  but  little  inclination  to  min 
gle  in  society,  although  I  might  easily  have  found  opportu 
nities.  I  fancy,  however,  that  this  reluctance  was  more 
imaginary  than  real :  it  belonged  to  the  soberer  role  which 
I  had  chosen  in  the  great  drama.  I  could  not  quite  justify 
my  participation  in  the  gayeties  of  the  season  to  that  spirit 
of  stern  indifference  which  I  ought,  logically,  to  have  pre 
served.  My  nature,  however,  was  not  so  profound  as  I 
supposed,  and  when  once  I  was  led  to  forget  myself  in  the 
presence  of  others,  I  speedily  developed  a  lively  capacity 
for  enjoyment.  More  than  once  I  went  slowly  and  moodily 
to  a  scene,  whence  I  returned  with  buoyant,  dancing  spirits. 
Whenever  I  thought  of  Amanda  Bratton,  a  feeling  of  con 
gratulation  at  my  escape  tempered  the  bitterness  of  the 
memory,  and  I  began  to  believe  again  (hardly  admitting  to 
myself  that  I  did  so)  in  the  purity  of  woman  and  the  honor 
of  man. 

The  remembered  expression  of  Miss  Haworth's  eyes 
troubled  me,  and  I  longed  for  an  opportunity  of  presenting 
myself  to  her  in  a  more  correct  light.  It  was  some  time 
before  such  an  opportunity  occurred.  I  passed  her  once 
on  Broadway,  on  a  sunny  afternoon,  and  sometimes  saw 
her  through  the  window  of  a  carriage,  but  nearly  three 
months  elapsed  before  I  was  able  to  speak  to  her  again. 
Mr.  Deering,  with  whom  I  had  made  a  slight  acquaintance 
during  the  dinner  at  Delmonico's,  invited  me  to  call  "  very 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  333 

sociably "  at  his  house  in  Fourteenth  Street,  on  a  certain 
evening.  I  accepted,  mainly  because  I  expected  to  find 
Penrose  there,  and,  as  my  duties  required  me  to  leave 
early,  made  my  appearance  precisely  at  the  appointed  hour. 
In  this  respect  I  was  misled  by  the  words  "  very  sociably," 
for  no  other  guests  had  yet  arrived,  and  the  rooms  were 
decorated  as  if  for  a  ball.  I  experienced  a  foolish  sensa 
tion  for  a  moment,  as  I  stood  alone  in  the  strong  light  of 
gas  and  the  glitter  of  gilding,  but  Mrs.  Deering  did  not 
leave  me  long  in  waiting.  With  her  entered,  to  my  sur 
prise,  Miss  Haworth. 

Mrs.  Deering  was  a  frail-looking  woman,  with  large  dark 
eyes,  and  pale,  melancholy,  interesting  face.  She  received 
me  with  perfect  grace,  and  a  kindly,  winning  air,  which 
seemed  —  I  knew  not  why  —  to  ask  for  sympathy.  At  any 
rate,  I  gave  it,  and  still  I  knew  not  why.  In  greeting  Miss 
Haworth  I  offered  her  my  hand,  forgetting  that  my  slight 
acquaintance  hardly  warranted  me  in  assuming  the  signs 
of  familiarity  ;  but  she  took  it  with  a  natural,  simple  cour 
tesy,  in  which  there  was  no  trace  of  mere  conventional 
politeness.  We  seated  ourselves  at  the  bottom  of  the 
apartment,  and  I  had  ample  time  to  overcome  the  first  for 
mal  stages  of  conversation  before  the  next  arrival.  The 
hostess  and  Miss  Haworth  were  evidently  familiar,  if  not 
intimate  friends ;  they  called  each  other  "  Fanny "  and 
"Isabel,"  and  frequently  referred  to  mutual  experiences 
and  mutual  impressions.  I  saw  that  both  were  amiable, 
cultivated,  refined  women.  The  point  of  difference  seemed 
to  be  in  character  —  in  a  certain  gentle,  reliant,  hesitating 
quality  in  Mrs.  Deering,  and  its  latent  opposite  in  Miss 
Haworth  —  for  I  did  not  think  the  latter  old  enough  for 
marked  development.  Nevertheless,  through  all  her  maid 
enly  sweetness  and  simplicity,  I  felt  the  existence  of  a  firm, 
heroic  spirit.  Her  pure,  liquid  voice  could  under  no  cir 
cumstances  become  shrill  or  hard,  but  its  music  might  ex 
press  a  changeless  resolution.  Some  sense  within  me, 


334  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

underlying  the  surface  of  my  talk,  continually  contrasted 
her  with  Amanda  Bratton.  The  consciousness  of  it  an 
noyed  me,  but  I  could  not  escape  from  the  perverse  spirit. 

Finally,  Mrs.  Deering  rose  and  advanced  to  receive  the 
coming  guests,  and  we  were  left  alone.  My  thoughts  went 
back  to  our  conversation  at  the  dinner,  and  I  longed  for  the 
tact  to  bring  it  up  naturally.  I  introduced  Matilda  Shanks, 
—  a  subject  soon  exhausted ;  then  Penrose,  and  here  a 
happy  thought  came  to  my  aid.  I  had  become  not  only 
unembarrassed,  but  frank,  and,  almost  before  I  knew  it, 
had  described  the  manner  in  which  we  had  discovered  our 
relationship. 

"  I  had  hardly  liked  him  before  that,"  I  said.  "  I  had 
thought  him  haughty,  cold,  and  almost  incapable  of  affec 
tion  —  but  this  was  only  the  outside.  He  was  truly  happy 
to  find  that  we  were  kin,  although  I  was  at  that  time  a  raw 
country-boy,  far  below  him  in  everything.  Since  then,  we 
have  learned  to  know  each  other  tolerably  well.  He  is  so 
handsome  that  I  am  very  glad  I  can  honestly  esteem  him." 

I  saw  a  light  like  a  smile  in  Miss  Haworth's  eyes,  but  it 
did  not  reach  her  lips.  "  He  is  strikingly  handsome,"  she 
said,  u  but  it  is  not  a  face  that  one  can  read  easily." 

"  I  think  I  like  it  all  the  better  for  that,"  I  answered. 
"  It  keeps  up  one's  interest ;  there  are  so  many  surprises, 
as  you  discover  new  traits." 

"  If  they  were  always  agreeable  surprises." 

"  I  have  found  them  so,  in  his  case." 

"  You  are  fortunate,  then,"  said  she.  Her  tone  was  calm 
and  passionless,  and  I  detected  no  reason  for  my  suspicion 
that  she  did  not  like  Penrose.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  we 
had  changed  characters,  —  as  if  now  the  faith  wrere  on  my 
side  and  the  distrust  on  hers.  I  presently  shook  off  this 
impression  as  absurd,  and  attempted  to  introduce  my  ex 
planation  before  the  new  guests  should  interrupt  us. 

"  I  think  my  cousin  frequently  does  injustice  to  himself," 
I  said.  "  He  is  fond  of  proclaiming  a  hard,  unsympathetic 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  335 

view  of  life,  which  does  not  correspond  with  his  practice. 
I  was  at  one  time  in  danger  of  imitating  him,  because  every 
thing  did  not  go  according  to  my  wishes.  I  can't  quite 
recall  the  words  I  used  in  my  talk  with  you  at  the  dinner," 
(this  was  false  —  I  knew  them  every  one,)  "  but  I  am  sure 
they  did  not  express  my  true  sentiments.  I  had  rather  be 
thought  inconsistent  than  cynical." 

"  So  would  I ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  a  merry  laugh. 
"  Consistency  is  a  jewel,  you  know,  but  the  color  of  it  don't 
happen  to  suit  my  complexion.  I  am  heterodox  enough  to 
dislike  the  word ;  to  me  it  signifies  something  excessively 
stiff,  prim,  and  tiresome." 

I  was  relieved,  but  a  little  surprised,  at  such  an  unex 
pected  latitude  of  opinion  in  Miss  Haworth. 

"  It  dates  from  my  school-days  in  Troy,"  she  continued, 
by  way  of  explanation.  "  Our  teacher  in  Moral  Philosophy 
had  a  habit  of  saying,  —  'Be  consistent,  girls  ! '  on  every 
possible  occasion.  We  all  decided  that  if  she  was  an  ex 
ample  of  it,  consistency  was  a  disagreeable  quality,  and  I 
am  afraid  that  we  tried  to  get  rid  of  what  little  we  had, 
instead  of  cultivating  it.  I  like  a  character  upon  which 
one  can  depend,  but  we  may  honestly  change  our  views." 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  there  are  also  such  differences  in  our 
moods  of  feeling.  We  change  like  the  scenery  of  land  or 
sea,  through  green,  gray,  blue  and  gold,  according  to  the  sun 
and  the  clouds.  You  are  right;  the  same  tints  forever 
would  be  very  tiresome ;  but  we  should  not  half  possess 
our  opinions,  if  we  were  always  conscious  that  we  might 
soon  change  them  for  others." 

"  I  wish  Mrs.  Deering  had  heard  you  say  that.  We  were 
looking  at  a  new  dress  of  hers  just  before  you  came.  There 
was  a  mixture  of  colors  in  it,  which,  I  knew,  had  only 
caught  her  eye  by  its  novelty,  and  the  effect  would  soon 
wear  off.  But  when  I  said  so,  she  put  her  hand  on  my 
mouth,  and  pleaded,  — '  Please  don't  say  a  word  against  it ; 
let  me  like  it  as  long  as  I  can.'  I  laughed  and  called  her 
a  child,  as  she  is  in  her  frankness  and  gentleness." 


336  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  She  is  a  very  lovely  woman,"  I  said,  "  but  there  is  some 
thing  about  her  which  seems  to  call  for  help  or  sympathy. 
I  do  not  understand  it." 

"  Is  it  so  palpable  ?  "  asked  Miss  Haworth,  in  a  low  voice, 
as  if  speaking  to  herself.  The  approach  of  other  guests 
interrupted  our  conversation,  and  I  had  no  chance  of  re 
suming  it  during  the  evening,  although  we  frequently  crossed 
each  other's  paths,  and  exchanged  a  few  words.  The  "  very 
sociable  "  entertainment  was  something  more  than  a  recep 
tion  and  something  less  than  a  ball.  Most  of  the  guests 
came  in  full  dress,  and  I  was  very  glad  that  I  had  profited 
by  a  hint  which  Brandagee  had  once  let  fall.  "In  New 
York,"  said  he,  "it  is  always  safer  to  over-dress  than  to 
under-dress.  The  former  is  looked  upon  as  a  compliment 
to  the  hosts,  and  no  excuse  is  ever  accepted  for  the  latter." 
The  young  ladies  were  all  decolletees,  and  their  bright  heads 
rose  out  of  wonderful  folds  and  cloudy  convolutions  of  white 
mist,  which  followed  with  soft  rustling  noises  the  gliding 
swing  of  their  forms.  I  was  leaning  on  the  narrow  end  of 
the  grand  piano,  listlessly  watching  them  as  they  moved 
through  the  figures  of  a  quadrille,  when  Mrs.  Deering  sud 
denly  addressed  me  with,  — 

"  Don't  you  dance,  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  " 

"  Sometimes,"  I  answered  ;  "  but  I  think  I  enjoy  seeing 
dancing  even  more.  Somebody  says,  if  one  would  stop  his 
ears  and  shut  out  the  music,  one  would  find  the  movements 
of  the  dancers  simply  ridiculous.  I  can  imagine  that  this 
might  be  true  of  the  gentlemen,  —  but,  certainly,  not  of  the 
ladies." 

"  Are  we  so  much  more  graceful  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,"  said  I,  with  plump  sincerity  ;  "  it  is  rather  the  ad 
vantage  of  dress,  —  the  difference  between  drapery,  which 
falls  into  flowing  and  undulating  lines,  and  a  close  shell, 
like  that  of  a  tortoise.  Besides  the  shell  is  black,  which 
robs  it  of  light  and  shade.  Suppose  the  gentlemen  wore 
Roman  togas,  —  white,  with  a  border  of  purple,  or  blue  and 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  337 

silver,  or  crimson  and  gold,  —  don't  you  think  the  effect 
would  be  immensely  improved  ?  " 

"  I  must  confess  the  idea  never  entered  my  head.  You 
must  give  me  time  to  think  about  it,  before  I  can  answer. 

o 

It  is  something  new  to  hear  a  gentleman  speak  for  the 
beauty  of  his  sex ;  we  are  generally  allowed  the  monopoly 
of  that." 

I  felt  embarrassed,  and  there  was  an  unpleasant  sense  of 
heat  in  my  face,  which  increased  as  I  encountered  Miss 
Haworth's  laughing,  expectant  eyes.  She  was  standing  near, 
and  must  have  heard  the  whole  conversation. 

"If  I  thought  myself  handsome,"  I  said,  at  last,  "I 
should  never  lay  myself  t>pen  to  such  a  charge ;  but  it  gives 
me  pleasure  to  see  beauty,  Mrs.  Deering,  whether  in  woman 
or  man,  and  I  do  not  understand  why  custom  requires  that 
one  sex  should  help  it  with  all  possible  accessories  and  the 
other  disguise  it." 

"  Oh,  you  men  don't  really  need  it,"  began  Mrs.  Deering. 
"  You  have  courage  and  energy  and  genius."  —  Here  she 
stopped,  turned  pale,  and  after  a  little  pause,  added  with  a 
gayety  not  altogether  natural ;  "  Shall  I  find  you  a  partner 
for  the  next  quadrille  \  " 

I  assented,  thinking  of  Miss  Haworth,  but  Mr.  Deering 
came  up  at  that  moment  and  secured  her.  Mrs.  Deering 
laid  her  hand  on  my  arm,  and  we  began  to  thread  the  dis 
entangling  groups  as  the  music  ceased.  The  elegant  young 
gentlemen  were  already  dodging  to  and  fro,  and  taking  their 
places  in  anticipation  of  the  next  dance :  th£  blooming, 
girlish  faces  were  snatched  away  as  we  approached  them, 
and  Mrs.  Deering,  with  a  little  laugh  at  our  ill-fortune, 
said,  "  I  must  pick  out  the  best  of  the  wall-flowers,  after 
all,  —  ah !  here  is  one  chance  yet !  " 

A  moment  after,  I  found  myself  face  to  face  with  —  Miss 
Levi! 

"  Mr.  Godfrey  wishes  for  the  pleasure,"  —  Mrs.  Deering 
began  to  say,  by  way  of  presentation  and  request. 


338  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Godfrey  ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Levi,  jumping  up 
and  giving  me  a  smart  rap  with  her  sandal-wood  fan,  —  "  you 
know  you  don't  deserve  it !  You  would  never  have  seen 
me  without  Mrs.  Deering's  help,  —  and  if  I  accept  you,  it 's 
for  her  sake  only.  He  's  as  false  and  heartless  as  he  can 
be,  Mrs.  Deering  ! " 

If  my  thought  had  been  expressed  in  words,  I  am  afraid 
there  would  have  been  a  profane  verb  before  Miss  Levi's 
name.  I  was  exasperated  by  the  unexpected  encounter, 
and  less  than  ever  disposed  to  hear  her  flippant,  affected 
chatter,  to  which  I  had  responded  so  often  that  I  was  power 
less  to  check  it  now.  As  we  took  our  places  on  the  floor, 
and  she  spread  the  scarlet  leaves  of  her  fan  over  the 
lower  part  of  her  face,  her  jet-black  eyes  and  hair  shining 
at  me  above  them,  I  thought  of  the  poppy-flower,  and  the 
dark,  devilish  spirit  of  the  drug  which  feeds  it.  I  tried  to 
shake  off  the  baleful,  narcotic  influence  which  streamed 
from  her,  and  which  seemed  to  increase  in  proportion  as  I 
resisted  it.  By  a  singular  chance,  Mr.  Deering  and  Miss 
Haworth  were  our  vis-a-vis.  I  had  scarcely  noticed  this, 
when  the  preliminary  chords  of  the  quadrille  were  struck, 
and  the  first  figure  commenced. 

"  Confess  to  me,  now,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  said  Miss  Levi,  when 
our  turn  came  to  rest,  "  that  you  are  as  false  in  literature  as 
you  are  in  love.  You  have  not  been  at  Mrs.  Yorkton's  for 
ever  so  long." 

"  I  am  false  to  neither,"  I  answered,  desperately,  "  for  I 
believe  in  rCeither." 

"  Oh,  I  shall  become  afraid  of  you."  I  knew  her  eyes 
were  upon  my  face,  but  I  steadily  looked  away.  "  You  are 
getting  to  be  misanthropic,  —  Byronic.  Of  course  there 
is  a  cause  for  it.  It  is  she  who  is  false ;  pardon  my  heartless 
jesting ;  I  shall  never  do  so  again.  But  you  never  thought 
it  serious,  did  you  ?  I  always  believed  in  your  truth  as  I  do 
in  your  genius." 

The  last  sentences  were  uttered  in  a  low,  gentle,  confi- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  339 

dential  tone,  and  the  fingers  that  lay  upon  my  arm  closed 
tenderly  around  it.  I  could  not  help  myself :  I  turned  my 
head  and  received  the  subdued,  sympathetic  light  of  the 
large  eyes. 

"You  are  mistaken,  Miss  Levi,"  I  said;  "there  is  no 
'  she '  in  the  case,  and  there  will  not  be." 

"  Never  ?  "  It  was  only  a  whisper,  but  I  despair  of  rep 
resenting  its  peculiar  intonation.  It  set  my  pulses  trem 
bling  with  a  mixture  of  sensations,  in  which  fear  was  pre 
dominant.  I  dimly  felt  that  I  must  somehow  disguise  my 
true  nature  from  this  woman's  view,  or  become  her  slave. 
I  must  prevaricate,  lie,  —  anything  to  make  her  believe  me 
other  than  my  actual  self. 

The  commencement  of  the  second  figure  relieved  me 
from  the  necessity  of  answering  her  question.  When  we 
had  walked  through  it,  and  I  was  standing  beside  her,  she 
turned  to  me  and  said,  — 

"  Well  ?  " 

"  Well  ?  "  I  echoed. 

"  You  have  not  answered  my  question." 

I  summoned  all  the  powers  of  dissimulation  I  possessed, 
looked  her  full  in  the  face  with  an  expression  of  innocence 
and  surprise,  and  answered,  "  What  question  ?  " 

Her  dark  brows  drew  together  for  an  instant,  and  a  rapid 
glance  hurled  itself  against  my  face,  as  if  determined  to 
probe  me.  I  bore  it  with  preternatural  composure,  and, 
finding  she  did  not  speak,  repeated,  "  What  question  ?  " 

She  turned  away,  unaware  that  something  very  like  a 
scowl  expressed  itself  on  her  profile,  and  muttered,  — 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence,  since  you  have  forgotten  it." 

My  success  emboldened  me  to  go  a  step  further,  and  not 
merely  defend  myself,  but  experiment  a  little  in  offensive 
tactics. 

"Oh,  about  being  false  to  literature?"  I  said.  "You 
probably  thought  I  was  pledged  to  it.  That  is  not  so ; 
what  I  have  done  has  been  merely  a  diversion.  Having 


340  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

attempted,  of  course  it  would  not  be  pleasant  to  fail ;  but 
there  is  no  great  satisfaction  in  success.  With  your  knowl 
edge  of  authors,  Miss  Levi,  you  must  be  aware  that  they 
cannot  be  called  either  a  happy  or  a  fortunate  class  of 
men ! " 

Again  she  scrutinized  my  face,  —  this  time  over  her  fan. 
I  was  wonderfully  calm  and  earnest :  there  is  no  hypocrisy 
equal  to  that  of  a  man  naturally  frank. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  true,"  she  answered,  at  last.  "  But 
there  are  some  exceptions,  and,  with  your  genius,  you  might 
be  one  of  them,  Mr.  Godfrey." 

"  If  my  t  genius,'  as  you  are  pleased  to  call  it,"  I  said, 
"  can  give  me  a  house  like  this,  and  large  deposits  in  the 
banks,  I  shall  be  very  much  obliged  to  it.  I  should  much 
rather  have  splendor  than  renown  :  would  n't  you  ?  " 

Looking  across  the  floor  I  met  Miss  Haworth's  eyes,  and 
although  she  turned  them  away  at  once,  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  quiet,  serious  observance  with  which  they  had  rested 
upon  me.  I  rejoiced  that  she  could  not  have  heard  my 
words.  The  game  I  had  been  playing  suddenly  became 
distasteful.  Miss  Levi's  answer  showed  that  she  had  fallen 
into  the  snare  ;  that  her  enthusiasm  for  literature  and  liter 
ary  men  was  a  shallow  affectation,  which  I  might  easily 
have  developed  further,  but  I  took  advantage  of  the  move 
ments  of  the  dance  to  change  the  subject.  When  the 
quadrille  was  finished,  I  conducted  her  to  a  seat,  bowed, 
and  left  her  almost  too  precipitately  for  courtesy. 

In  the  mean  time  Penrose  had  arrived.  I  had  not  seen 
him  for  some  weeks,  and  we  were  having  a  pleasant  talk  in 
a  corner  of  the  room  when  Mrs.  Deering,  in  her  arbitrary 
character  of  hostess,  interrupted  us,  by  claiming  him  for 
presentation  to  some  of  her  friends. 

"  The  partnership  is  social  as  well  as  commercial,  is  it  ?  " 
said  he.  "  Then  I  must  go,  John." 

An  imp  of  mischief  prompted  me  to  say  to  Mrs.  Deer- 
ing,  "  Introduce  him  to  Miss  Levi.  Dance  with  her,  if  you 


JOHN.  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  341 

can,  Alexander;  I  want  to  hear  your  impression  of  her 
beauty." 

"  Oh,  ho  ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  is  she  the  elected  one  ?  By 
all  means.  I  shall  try  to  find  her  bewitching,  for  your 
sake." 

"  Alexander  !  "  I  cried.  But  the  twain  were  already 
moving  away,  Mrs.  Deering  looking  back  to  me  with  a  gay, 
significant  smile.  1  was  provoked  at  myself,  and  at  Pen- 
rose.  I  had  honestly  wished,  for  my  own  satisfaction,  to 
subject  Miss  Levi  to  the  test  of  his  greater  knowledge  of 
the  world,  his  sharp,  merciless  dissection  of  character.  Per 
haps  I  thought  he  could  analyze  the  uncanny,  mysterious 
power  which  she  possessed.  But  the  interpretation  he  had 
put  upon  my  words  spoiled  the  plan.  And  Mrs.  Deering, 
I  feared,  had  accepted  that  interpretation  only  too  readily. 
Could  she  really  believe  that  I  was  attracted  towards  Miss 
Levi  ?  If  so,  and  she  mentioned  the  discovery  to  Miss 
Haworth,  what  must  the  latter  think  of  me  ?  She,  too,  had 
noticed  the  intimate  character  of  our  conversation  during 
the  dance ;  yet  she  could  not,  must  not  be  allowed  to  mis 
understand  me  so  shockingly.  I  worried  myself,  I  have  no 
doubt,  a  great  deal  more  than  was  necessary.  My  surmises 
involved  no  compliment  to  the  good  sense  of  the  two  ladies, 
and  the  excitement  they  occasioned  in  my  mind  was  incon 
sistent  with  the  character  I  had  determined  to  assume. 

I  looked  around  for  Miss  Haworth  before  leaving  the 
parlor.  She  was  seated  at  the  piano,  playing  one  of 
Strauss's  airy  waltzes,  while  the  plain,  weary-looking  gov 
erness,  who  had  been  performing  for  the  two  previous 
hours,  was  taking  a  rest  and  an  ice  on  the  sofa.  Among 
the  couples  which  revolved  past  me  were  Penrose  and  Miss 
Levi,  and  there  was  a  bright  expression  of  mischief  in  the 
former's  eye  as  it  met  mine. 

I  went  down  town  to  my  midnight  duties  in  the  office  of 
the  Wonder,  very  much  dissatisfied  with  myself.  It  seemed 
that  I  had  stupidly  blundered  during  the  whole  evening, 


342  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

and  had  made  my  position  worse  than  it  was  before  in  the 
eyes  of  the  only  woman  whom  I  was  anxious  to  please.  The 
latter  fact  was  now  apparent  to  my  consciousness,  and  when 
I  asked  myself  "  Why  ?  "  there  was  no  difficulty  in  finding 
reasons.  She  was  handsome  ;  she  resembled  St.  Agnes  ;  I 
believed  her  to  be  a  pure,  true,  noble-hearted  girl. 
Then  I  asked  myself  again,  "  Anything  more  ?  " 
And  as  I  stepped  over  the  booming  vaults,  in  which  the 
great  iron  presses  of  the  Wonder  revolved  at  the  rate 
of  twenty  thousand  copies  per  hour,  and  mounted  to  the 
stifling  room  where  the  reports  on  yellow  transfer-paper 
awaited  me,  I  shook  my  head  and  made  answer  unto  my 
self,  "  No ;  nothing  more  !  " 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  343 


CHAPTER  XXVH. 

WHICH    SHOWS    THAT    THERE    WAS    SOMETHING   MORE. 

MY  ill-humor  extended  over  several  days,  and  even 
showed  itself  in  my  professional  duties.  I  don't  suppose 
that  the  blustering  March  weather  of  New  York  was  ever 
so  savagely  and  bitterly  described  as  in  some  of  my  articles 
at  that  time.  I  wrote  a  hideously  ironical  sonnet  to  Spring, 
which  some  country  editor  maliciously  copied,  side  by  side 
with  Bryant's  poem  on  "  March,"  bidding  his  readers  con 
trast  the  serene,  cheerful  philosophy  expressed  in  the 
lines,  — 

"  But  in  thy  sternest  frown  abides 
A  look  of  kindly  promise  yet —  " 

with  "  the  spleenful  growling  of  Mr.  J.  Godfrey,"  contempt 
uously  adding,  "  whoever  he  may  be." 

This  latter  castigation,  however,  came  back  to  me  at  a 
time  when  I  could  laugh  over  it,  and  acknowledge  that  it 
was  deserved.  It  was  not  long  before  the  fact  recurred  to 
my  mind  that  Custom  required  me  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Deer- 
ing,  and,  admitting  that  Custom  sometimes  makes  very  sen 
sible  jand  convenient  arrangements,  I  consoled  myself  with 
the  prospect  of  soon  knowing  how  far  Penrose  had  impli 
cated  me.  • 

Mrs.  Deering  received  me  with  the  same  winning,  mel 
ancholy  grace,  which,  from  the  first,  had  inspired  me  with 
a  respectful  interest.  We  conversed  for  some  time,  and, 
as  she  made  no  allusion  to  Miss  Levi,  I  was  obliged  to  in 
troduce  the  subject,  "  butt-end  foremost." 

"  I  saw  that  you  presented  Penrose  to  Miss  Levi,"  I  said. 


344  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  Of  course  you  did  n't  believe  his  jesting,  when  I  asked 
you  to  do  so  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  answered,  with  a  smile  ;  "  I  am  accustomed 
to  that  sort  of  badinage  among  gentlemen.  There  was 
some  joking  about  it  afterwards  between  Mr.  Penrose  and 
Miss  Haworth." 

"  Good  heavens  ! "  I  exclaimed,  quite  startled  out  of  my 
propriety ;  "  Miss  Haworth,  I  hope,  does  not  suppose  it  to 
be  true  ?  " 

Mrs.  Deering's  eyes  rested  on  my  face  a  moment,  with  a 
sweet,  gentle  interest.  "  I  do  not  think  she  does,"  she 
presently  remarked :  "  it  was  Mr.  Floyd,  her  step-brother, 
who  seemed  to  be  most  interested.  He  asked  Mr.  Penrose 
to  introduce  him  also  to  Miss  Levi." 

"  It  is  too  bad  !  "  I  cried,  in  great  vexation  :  "  what  shall 
I  do  to  contradict  this  ridiculous  story  ?  " 

"  Pray  give  yourself  no  uneasiness,  Mr.  Godfrey.  I  will 
contradict  it  for  you,  should  I  hear  anything  of  it,  but  I 
really  imagine  that  it  has  already  been  forgotten." 

I  gave  her  grateful  thanks  and  took  my  leave,  somewhat 
comforted,  if  not  quieted  in  spirit. 

A  few  days  afterwards  I  received  a  little  note  from  her 
inviting  me  to  tea.  I  wrote  a  line  of  acceptance  at  once,  and 
gladly,  surmising  that  she  had  something  to  tell  me,  —  feel 
ing  quite  sure,  at  least,  that  I  shoultt  hear  of  Miss  Haworth. 
But  I  did  not  venture  to  anticipate  the  happiness  which 
awaited  me.  Miss  Haworth,  whether  by  accident  or  through 
Mrs.  Deering's  design,  was  present.  There  were  also  two 
or  three  other  guests,  who,  as  they  have  no  concern  with 
the  story  of  my  life,  need  not  be  particularized.  Before  we 
were  summoned  to  the  tea-table,  Mrs.  Deering  found  an 
opportunity  to  whisper  to  me,  — 

"  Make  yourself  quite  easy,  Mr.  Godfrey.  It  was  all 
taken  as  a  jest." 

I  knew  that  she  referred  to  Miss  Haworth,  and  felt  that 
any  reference  to  the  subject,  on  my  part,  would  be  unnec- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  345 

essary.  I  was  at  once  reconciled  to  the  vexation  which  had 
procured  me  another  interview  with  her,  and  in  the  genial, 
unconstrained  atmosphere  of  the  small  company,  became 
my  own  frank,  light-hearted  self,  as  Nature  designed  me  to 
be.  Our  acquaintance  ripened  apace :  we  conversed,  dur 
ing  the  evening,  on  books  and  music,  and  men  and  their 
ways,  developing,  not  always  accordant  views,  but  an  in 
creasing  freedom  in  the  utterance  of  them.  I  was  still  too 
ignorant  of  the  change  that  was  going  on  in  my  feelings  to 
be  timid  or  embarrassed  in  her  presence,  and  my  eyes  con 
stantly  sought  hers,  partly  because  I  was  absorbed  in  the 
beauty  of  their  dark-violet  hue,  and  partly  because  they 
never  shunned  my  gaze,  but  met  it  with  the  innocent  direct 
ness  of  a  nature  that  had  nothing  to  conceal.  Naturalists 
say  that  an  object  steadily  looked  at  in  a  strong  light,  pro 
duces  an  impression  upon  the  retina  which  remains  and  re 
produces  the  image  for  hours  afterwards.  I  am  sure  this 
is  true  ;  for  those  eyes,  that  rippled  golden  hair,  that  full, 
sweet  mouth  and  round,  half-dimpled  chin,  haunted  my 
vision  from  that  time  forth.  When  I  close  my  eyes,  I  can 
still  see  them. 

My  enjoyment  of  the  evening  would  have  been  perfect 
but  for  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd,  who  dropped 
in  at  a  late  hour  to  escort  his  step-sister  home.  We  were 
sitting  together,  a  little  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  company, 
when  he  entered,  and  I  could  see  that  his  face  assumed  no 
very  friendly  expression  as  he  noticed  the  fact.  After  greet 
ing  the  hostess  and  the  other  guests,  he  turned  towards  us. 

"  Bell,  I  have  come  for  you,"  he  said.  "  Ah,  Mr.  God 
frey,  how  do  you  do  ?  Are  you  to  be  congratulated  ?  " 

"  No ! "  I  exclaimed,  with  a  quick  sense  of.  anger,  the 
expression  of  which  I  could  not  entirely  suppress. 

"  Very  complimentary  to  you,  Bell !  Rather  a  decided 
expression  of  distaste  for  your  society." 

"  That  was  not  what  you  meant,"  I  said,  looking  him 
steadily  in  the  eye. 


346  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

He  avoided  my  gaze,  laughed,  and  said  he  was  sorry  I 
did  n't  seem  to  understand  a  joke.  There  was  a  heightened 
color  in  Miss  Haworth's  face,  as  she  replied  to  a  previous 
remark  of  mine,  but  in  no  other  way  did  she  notice  what 
had  passed  between  her  step-brother  and  myself.  Pres 
ently  she  rose  to  accompany  him,  giving  me  her  hand 
frankly  and  kindly  as  she  said  good-night.  I  took  leave 
of  Mrs.  Deering  very  soon  after  her  departure. 

I  postponed  all  reflection  —  all  examination  of  the  con 
fused,  shining  sensations  which  rilled  my  heart  —  until  my 
work  was  done,  and  I  could  stretch  myself  in  the  freedom 
and  freshness  of  my  bed.  There  was  too  much  agitation 
in  my  blood  for  sleep.  At  first  I  left  the  gas-burner  alight, 
that  I  might  see,  from  my  pillow,  the  picture  of  St.  Agnes 

—  but  presently  arose  and  turned  out  the  flame.    The  color, 
the  life,  and  spirit  of  the  face  in  my  memory  made  the  en 
graving  tame.     I  admitted  to  myself  the  joy  of  Isabel  Ha- 
worti^'s  presence,  with  a  thrill  of  ecstasy,  which  betrayed  to 
me  at  once  towards  what  shore  this  new  current  was  set 
ting.     At  first,  it  is  true,  there  was  an  intrusive  conscious 
ness,  not  precisely  of  inconstancy,  but  of  something  very 
like  it  —  of  shallow-heartedness,  in  so  soon  recovering  from 
a  hurt  which  I  had  considered  mortal ;  but  it  was  speedily 
lost  in  the  knowledge,  which  now  came  to  me,  of  the  growth 
of  my  nature  since  the  days  of  that  boyish  delusion.     I  sud 
denly  became  aware  of  the  difference  between  sentiment 
and  passion.     My  first  attachment  was  shy,  timid,  dreamy, 

—  shrinking  away  from  the  positive  aspects  of  life.     It 
flattered  my  vanity,  because  I  looked  upon  it  as  an  evidence 
of  manhood,  but  it  had  not  directly  braced  a  single  fibre  of 
my  heart.     This,  on  the  contrary,  filled  me,  through  and 
through,  with  a  sharp  tingle  of  power :  it  dared  to  contem 
plate  every  form  of  its  realization ;  were  its  blessing  but 
assured,  I  should  proudly  proclaim  it  to  the  world.     Its 
existence  once  recognized,  I  took  it  swiftly  into  every  cham 
ber  of  my  being :  my  kindled  imagination  ran  far  in  ad- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  347 

vance  of  the  primitive  stage  of  my  experience,  and  before 
I  fell  asleep  I  had  almost  persuaded  myself  that  the  fortune 
of  my  life  was  secured. 

I  have  said  but  little  of  Miss  Haworth,  because,  up  to 
this  time,  I  had  seen  so  little  of  her.  My  love  was  half 
instinct,  —  the  suspicion  of  a  noble  and  steadfast  character 
which  was  yet  unproved.  She  did  not  seem  to  be  consid 
ered,  in  society,  a  marked  beauty  ;  she  rather  evaded  than 
courted  observation,  —  but  I  felt  that  she  was  one  of  those 
women  whom  one  would  like  to  meet  more  frequently  in 
what  is  called  "fashionable"  society,  —  of  faultless  social 
culture,  yet  as  true  and  unspoiled  as  the  simplest  country 
maiden.  It  was  no  shame  to  love  her  without  the  hope  of 
return.  Indeed,  I  admitted  to  my  own  heart  that  I  had  no 
right  to  any  such  hope.  What  could  she  find  in  me  ?  — 
she,  to  whom  the  world  was  open,  who  doubtless  knew  so 
many  men  more  gifted  in  every  way  than  myself!  Never 
theless,  I  should  not  tamely  relinquish  my  claim.  I  might 
have  to  wait  for  a  long  time,  —  to  overcome  obstacles  which 
would  task  my  whole  strength, —  but  she  was  too  glorious  a 
prize  to  sit  down  and  sigh  for  while  another  carried  her  off. 

All  this  occurred  in  the  first  thrill  of  my  discovery.  I 
could  not  always  feel  so  courageous  ;  the  usual  fluctuations 
of  passion  came  to  cheer  or  depress  me.  I  could  only  de 
pend  on  seeing  her,  through  accidental  opportunities,  and 
my  employment  prevented  me  from  seeking  to  increase 
them.  Often,  indeed,  I  hurried  through  my  afternoon  du 
ties  in  order  to  prolong  my  walk  up  Broadway,  in  the  hope 
of  meeting  her,  but  this  fortune  happened  to  me  but  twice. 
One  evening,  however,  at  Wallack's,  a  little  incident  oc 
curred  which  kept  me  in  a  glow  for  weeks  afterwards.  Mr. 
Severn  had  given  me  two  of  the  complimentary  tickets  sent 
to  the  Wonder  office,  and  I  took  Swansford  with  me,  de 
lighted  with  the  chance  of  sharing  my  recreation  with  him. 
We  selected  seats  in  the  parquet,  not  too  near  the  brass  in 
struments  ;  his  ear  suffered  enough,  as  it  was,  from  the  lit- 


348  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

tie  slips  and  false  notes  which  were  inaudible  to  me.  Look 
ing  around  the  boxes  at  the  end  of  the  first  act,  my  heart 
gave  a  bound  on  seeing  Miss  Haworth,  in  company  with 
an  unknown  lady  and  gentleman.  She  wore  a  pale  lilac 
dress,  with  white  flowers  in  her  hair,  and  looked  unusually 
lovely.  They  were  conversing  cheerfully  together,  and  I 
could  study  the  perfect  self-possession  of  her  attitude,  the 
grace  of  her  slightest  movements,  without  being  observed. 

Having  made  this  discovery,  I  had  thenceforth  but  half 
an  eye  for  the  play.  My  seat,  fortunately,  was  nearly  on  a 
line  with  the  box  in  which  she  sat,  and  I  could  steal  a  glance 
by  very  slightly  turning  my  head.  Towards  the  close  of 
the  second  act,  an  interesting  situation  on  the  stage  ab 
sorbed  the  attention  of  the  audience,  and  feeling  myself 
secure,  I  gazed,  and  lost  myself  in  gazing.  The  intensity 
of  my  look  seemed  to  draw  her  palpably  to  meet  it.  She 
slowly  turned  her  head,  and  her  eyes  fell  full  upon  mine. 
I  felt  a  sweet,  wonderful  heart-shock,  as  if  our  souls  had 
touched  and  recognized  each  other.  What  my  eyes  said  to 
her  I  could  not  guess,  —  nor  what  hers  said  to  me.  My 
lids  fell,  and  I  sat  a  moment  without  breathing.  When  I 
looked  up,  her  face  was  turned  again  towards  the  stage,  but 
a  soft  flush,  "  which  was  not  so  before,"  lingered  along  her 
cheek  and  throat. 

I  might  have  visited  the  box  during  the  entr'acte,  but 
my  thoughts  had  not  yet  subsided  into  a  sufficiently  practi 
cal  channel.  The  play  closed  with  the  third  act,  and  at  its 
close  the  party  left.  Once  more  our  glances  met,  and  I  had 
sufficient  courage  to  bow  my  recognition,  which  she  re 
turned.  I  had  no  mind,  however,  to  wait  through  the  farce, 
and  hurried  off  Swansford,  who  was  evidently  surprised  at 
my  impatient,  excited  manner,  following  so  close  on  a  fit 
of  (for  me)  very  unusual  taciturnity.  I  answered  his  com 
ments  on  the  play  in  such  a  manner  that  he  exclaimed,  as 
we  reached  the  street,  — 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Godfrey  ?  You  don't 
seem  to  have  your  senses  about  you  to-night." 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  349 

I  laughed.  "  I  am  either  the  blindest  of  bats,  the  stu 
pidest  of  owls,"  I  said,  "  or  my  senses  are  miraculously 
sharpened.  I  have  seen  either  all,  or  nothing,  —  but  no, 
it  must,  it  shall  be  all !  " 

I  caught  hold  of  Swansford's  arm  and  hurried  him  along 
with  me.  As  we  passed  a  comer  lamp-post,  he  looked  at 
my  face  in  the  light  with  a  puzzled,  suspicious  expression, 
which  moved  me  to  renewed  mirth.  Pie  was  as  far  as  pos 
sible  from  guessing  what  was  the  matter  with  me. 

"  Here  is  Bleecker  Street,"  said  I.  "  Come  up  to  my 
room,  old  fellow,  and  you  shall  judge  whether  I  am  a  fool 
or  not." 

He  complied  mechanically,  and  we  were  presently  seated 
in  opposite  arm-chairs,  before  the  smouldering  grate.  I 
gave  him  a  glass  of  Sherry,  —  a  bottle  of  which  I  kept  on 
purpose  for  his  visits,  —  and  when  I  saw  that  he  looked  re 
freshed  and  comfortable,  began  my  story  in  an  abrupt,  in 
direct  way. 

"  Swansford,"  I  asked,  "  can  a  man  love  twice  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  answered  sadly,  after  a  pause, —  "  J" 
could  not."  But  he  lifted  his  face  towards  me  with  a  quick, 
lively  interest,  which  anticipated  my  confession. 

I  began  at  the  beginning,  and  gave  him  every  detail  of 
my  acquaintance  with  Miss  Haworth,  —  the  dinner  at  Del- 
monico's,  the  glimpses  in  the  street,  the  "  very  sociable  " 
party  at  Mr.  Deering's,  the  invitation  to  tea,  and  finally  the 
meeting  of  our  eyes  that  very  evening.  There  was  no  shy 
ness  in  my  heart,  although  I  knew  that  the  future  might 
never  give  form  to  its  desires. 

"  That  is  all,"  I  concluded,  "  and  I  do  not  know  what  you 
may  think  of  it.  Whether  or  not  I  arn  fickle,  easily  im 
pressed,  or  deceived  in  my  own  nature,  in  all  other  re 
spects,  I  know  that  I  love  this  girl  with  every  power  of  my 
soul  and  every  pulse  of  my  body  !  " 

I  had  spoken  with  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  crimson  gulfs 
among  the  falling  coals,  and  without  pausing  long  enough 


350  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

for  interruption.     There  was  so  little  to  tell  that  I  must 
give  it  all  together.     Swansford  did  not  immediately  an 
swer,  and  I  looked  towards  him.     He  was  leaning  forward, 
with  his  elbows  on  the  arms  of  the  chair  and  his  face  bur 
ied  in  his  hands.     His  hair  seemed  damp,  and  drops  of 
perspiration  were  starting  on  his  pale  forehead.     A  mad 
fear  darted  through  my  mind,  and  I  cried  out,  — 
"  Swansford  !     Do  you  know  Miss  Haworth  ?  " 
"  No,"  he  replied,  in  a  faint,  hollow  voice,  "  I   never 
heard  her  name  before." 

His  fingers  gradually  crooked  themselves  until  the  ten 
dons  of  his  wrists  stood  out  like  cords.  Then,  straighten 
ing  his  back  firmly  in  the  chair,  he  seized  the  knobs  on  the 
ends  of  the  arms  and  appeared  to  be  bracing  himself  to 


"  I  have  —  no  business  —  with  love,"  he  began,  slowly  ; 
"  you  should  not  come  to  me  for  judgment,  Godfrey.  I 
know  nothing  about  any  other  heart  than  my  own  ;  it  would 
be  better  if  I  knew  less  of  that.  You  are  younger  than 
me  ;  there  is  thicker  blood  in  your  veins.  Some,  I  suppose, 
are  meant  to  be  happy,  and  God  grant  that  you  may  be  one 
of  them  !  I  am  not  surprised,  only  "  — 

He  smiled  feebly  and  stretched  out  his  hand,  which  I 
pressed  in  both  mine  with  a  feeling  of  infinite  pity. 

"  Give  me  another  glass  of  Sherry,"  he  said,  presently. 
"  I  am  weaker  than  I  used  to  be.  I  think  one  genuine, 
positive  success  would  make  me  a  strong  man  ;  but  it 's 
weary  waiting  so  long,  and  the  prospect  no  brighter  from 
one  year's  end  to  another.  Is  it  not  inexplicable  that  I, 
who  was  willing  to  sacrifice  to  Art  the  dearest  part  of  my 
destiny  as  a  Man,  should  be  robbed  of  both,  as  my  reward  ? 
If  I  had  my  life  to  begin  over  again,  I  would  try  selfish  as 
sertion  and  demand,  instead  of  patient  self-abnegation,  — 
but  it  is  now  too  late  to  change." 

These  expressions  drew  from  me  a  confession  of  the 
same  stages  of  protest  through  which  I  had  passed,  —  or, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  351 

rather,  was  still  passing,  —  for  the  rebellious  thoughts  only 
slumbered  in  my  heart.  We  exchanged  confidences,  and  I 
saw  that  while  Swansford  admitted  to  himself  the  force  of 
the  selfish  plea,  he  still  considered  it  with  reference  to  his 
art.  If  some  master  of  psychology  had  said  to  him,  "  Sin, 
and  the  result  will  be  a  symphony ! "  I  believe  he  would 
have  deliberately  sinned.  If  Mendelssohn  had  murdered 
the  basso,  for  his  slovenly  singing  in  "  Elijah,"  he  would 
none  the  less  have  revered  Mendelssohn  as  a  saint.  I 
did  not  know  enough  of  music  to  judge  of  Swansford's 
genius ;  but  I  suspected,  from  his  want  of  success,  that  his 
mind  was  rather  sympathetic  than  creative.  If  so,  his  was 
the  saddest  of  fates.  I  would  not  have  added  to  its  dark 
ness  by  uttering  the  least  of  doubts :  rather  I  would  have 
sacrificed  my  own  hopes  of  literary  fame  to  have  given 
hope  to  him. 

The  days  grew  long  and  sunny,  the  trees  budded  in  the 
city  squares,  and  the  snowy  magnolias  blossomed  in  the 
little  front-gardens-  up  town.  Another  summer  was  not  far 
off,  and  my  mind  naturally  reverted  to  the  catastrophes  of 
the  past,  even  while  enjoying  the  brightness  of  the  present 
season.  No  word  from  Pennsylvania  had  reached  me  in 
the  mean  time,  and  I  rather  reproached  myself,  now,  for 
having  dropped  all  correspondence  with  Reading  or  Up 
per  Samaria.  The  firm  of  Woolley  and  Himpel,  I  had  no 
doubt,  still  flourished,  —  with  the  aid  of  my  money ;  Rand 
and  his  Amanda  (I  could  not  help  wondering  whether  they 
were  happy)  probably  lived  in  the  same  city;  Dan  Yule 
was  married  to  the  schoolmistress;  and  Verbena  Cuff,  I 
hoped,  had  found  a  beau  who  was  not  afraid  of  courting. 
How  I  laughed,  not  only  at  that,  but  at  many  other  epi 
sodes  of  my  life  in  Upper  Samaria !  Then  I  took  down 
"  Leonora's  Dream,  and  Other  Poems,"  for  the  first  time 
in  nearly  a  year.  This  was  the  climax  of  my  disgust.  My 
first  sensation  was  one  of  simple  horror  at  its  crudities ;  my 
second  one  of  gratitude  that  I  had  grown  sufficiently  to 
perceive  them. 


352  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  was  now  ambitious  of  culture  rather  than  fame.  I  saw 
that,  without  the  former,  I  could  never  rise  above  a  subor 
dinate  place  in  literature,  —  possibly  no  higher  than  the 
sphere  represented  by  Mrs.  Yorkton  and  her  circle ;  with 
it,  I  might  truly  not  attain  a  shining  success,  but  I  should 
be  guarded  against  failure,  because  I  should  know  my 
talents  and  not  misapply  them.  The  thirst  for  acquiring 
overlaid,  for  a  time,  the  desire  for  producing.  After 
Wordsworth  I  read  Pope,  and  then  went  back  to  Chau 
cer,  intending  to  come  down  regularly  through  the  royal 
succession  of  English  authors;  but  the  character  of  my 
necessary  labors  prevented  me  from  adopting  any  fixed 
plan  of  study,  and,  as  usual,  I  deserved  more  credit  for 
good  intentions  than  for  actual  performance. 

Only  once  more,  in  the  course  of  the  spring,  did  I  secure 
a  brief  interview  with  Miss  Haworth.  During  the  Annual 
Exhibition  of  the  Academy  of  Design,  I  met  her  there, 
one  afternoon,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Deering.  It  was  a 
gusty  day,  and  the  rooms  were  not  crowded.  We  looked 
at  several  of  the  principal  pictures  together,  and  I  should 
have  prolonged  the  sweet  occupation  through  the  remain 
ing  hours  of  daylight,  had  not  the  ladies  been  obliged  to 
leave. 

"  Do  you  go  anywhere  this  summer  ? "  Mrs.  Deering 
asked. 

"  No  further  than  Coney  Island,"  I  said,  with  a  smile  at 
the  supposition  implied  by  her  remark ;  "  a  trip  of  that 
length,  and  an  absence  of  six  hours,  is  all  the  holiday  I 
can  afford." 

"  Then  we  shall  not  see  you  again  until  next  fall.  Mr. 
Deering  has  taken  a  cottage  for  us  on  the  Sound,  and  Miss 
Haworth,  I  believe,  is  going  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  or 
somewhere  near  them.  Where  is  it,  Isabel  ?  " 

"  Only  to  Minnesota  and  Lake  Superior.  I  shall  accom 
pany  a  friend  who  goes  for  her  health,  and  we  shall  proba 
bly  spend  the  whole  summer  in  that  region." 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  353 

"  How  I  wish  I  could  go ! "  I  exclaimed,  impetuously. 
Then,  recollecting  myself,  I  added,  "  But  you  will  tell  me 
all  about  Minne-ha-ha  and  the  Pictured  Rocks,  will  you 
not  ?  May  I  call  upon  you  after  your  return  ?  " 

"  I  shall  always  be  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Godfrey." 

I  held  her  hand  and  looked  in  her  eyes.  It  was  only  for 
a  moment,  yet  I  found  myself  growing  warm  and  giddy 
with  the  insane  desire  of  drawing  her  to  my  breast  and 
whispering,  "  I  love  you  !  I  love  you  !  " 

When  they  left  the  exhibition-room,  I  followed,  and  lean 
ing  over  the  railing,  watched  them  descending  the  stairs. 
At  the  bottom  of  the  first  flight  Miss  Haworth  dropped  her 
parasol,  turned  before  I  could  anticipate  the  movement,  and 
saw  me.  I  caught  a  repeated,  hesitating  gesture  of  fare 
well,  and  she  was  gone. 

Then  began  for  me  the  monotonous  life  of  summer  in 
the  city,  —  long  days  of  blazing  sunshine  and  fiery  radia 
tions  from  pavements  and  brick  walls,  —  nights  when  the 
air  seemed  to  wither  in  its  dead  sultriness,  until  thunder 
came  up  the  coast  and  boomed  over  the  roofs,  —  when 
theatres  are  shut,  and  fashionable  clergymen  are  in  Europe, 
and  oysters  are  out  of  season,  and  pen  and  brain  work  like 
an  ox  prodded  with  the  goad.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  toler 
ably  happy  summer  to  me.  In  spite  of  my  natural  impa 
tience,  I  felt  that  my  acquaintance  with  Miss  Haworth  had 
progressed  as  rapidly  as  was  consistent  with  the  prospect 
of  its  fortunate  development.  If  it  was  destined  that  she 
should  return  my  love,  the  first  premonitions  of  its  exist 
ence  must  have  already  reached  her  heart.  She  was  too 
clear-sighted  to  overlook  the  signs  I  had  given. 

There  was  one  circumstance,  however,,  which  often  dis 
turbed  me.  She  was  an  heiress,  —  worth  hundreds  of 
thousands,  Penrose  had  said,  —  and  I  a  poor  young  man, 
earning,  by  steady  labor,  little  more  than  was  necessary  for 
my  support.  While  I  admitted,  in  my  heart  of  hearts,  the 
insignificance  of  this  consideration  to  the  pure  eyes  of  love, 
23 


354  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

I  could  not  escape  the  conventional  view  of  the  case.  My 
position  was  a  mercenary  one,  and  no  amount  of  sincerity 
or  fidelity  could  wash  me  clear  of  suspicion.  Besides,  it 
reversed  what  seemed  to  me  the  truest  and  tenderest  rela 
tion  between  man  and  woman.  If  I  won  her  heart,  I 
should  be  dependent  on  her  wealth,  not  she  upon  my 
industry  and  energy.  For  her  sake,  I  could  not  wish  that 
wealth  less :  she  was  probably  accustomed  to  the  habits 
and  tastes  it  made  possible ;  but  it  deprived  me  of  the 
least  chance  of  proving  how  honest  and  unselfish  was  my 
devotion.  All  appearances  were  against  me,  and  if  she 
did  not  trust  me  sufficiently  to  believe  my  simple  wTord,  I 
was  lost.  This  was  a  trouble  which  I  could  not  lighten  by 
imparting  it  to  any  one,  —  not  even  Swansford.  I  carried 
it  about  secretly  with  me,  taking  it  out  now  and  then  to 
perplex  myself  with  the  search  of  a  solution  which  might 
satisfy  all  parties,  —  her,  myself,  and  the  world. 

The  summer  passed  away,  and  the  cool  September  nights 
brought  relief  to  the  city.  One  by  one  the  languid  inhab 
itants  of  brown-stone  fronts  came  back  with  strength  from 

o 

the  hills,  or  a  fresh,  salty  tang  from  the  sea-shore.  The 
theatres  were  opened,  oysters  reappeared  without  chol 
era,  and  the  business-streets  below  the  Park  were  crowded 
with  Western  and  Southern  merchants.  The  day  drew 
nigh  when  I  should  again  see  my  beloved,  and  my  heart 
throbbed  with  a  firmer  and  more  hopeful  pulsation. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  355 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

WHICH    GIVES    AN   ACCOUNT    OF    A    FIRE    AND    WHAT    FOL 
LOWED    IT. 

DURING  the  summer  of  which  I  am  writing,  there  was 
an  unusual  demand  for  short,  sketchy  articles,  moral  in  ten 
dency,  but  without  the  dulness  of  moral  essays.  They  were 
weak  concoctions  of  flashy,  superficial  philosophy,  generally 
starting  from  the  text  of  some  trivial  incident,  and  made 
piquant  with  a  delicate  flavor  of  slang.  The  school  exists 
to  this  day,  and  may  be  found,  in  the  hectic  of  its  com 
mencing  decline,  in  the  columns  of  certain  magazines  and 
literary  newspapers.  In  the  days  of  its  youth,  it  possessed 
an  air  of  originality  which  deceived  ninety-nine  out  of  every 
hundred  readers,  and  thus  became  immensely  popular.  The 
demand,  increased  by  the  emulation  of  rival  publishers,  and 
accompanied  by  fabulous  remuneration  (if  the  advertisements 
were  true),  soon  created  a  corresponding  supply,  and  the 
number  of  Montaignes  and  Montaignesses  who  arose  among 
us  will  be  a  marvel  to  the  literary  historian  of  the  next 
century. 

My  practice  in  what  the  foreman  of  the  Wonder  com 
posing-room  called  "fancy  city  articles,"  enabled  me  to 
profit  at  once  by  this  new  whirl  in  the  literary  current.  My 
sketches,  entitled  "  The  Omnibus  Horse,"  "  Any  Thing  on 
This  Board  for  Four  Cents,"  and  "  Don't  Jump  ! "  (the  latter 
suggested  by  the  Jersey  City  Ferry,)  had  already  been  ex 
tensively  copied,  and  when  Mr.  G.  Jenks,  —  rising  presently 
to  his  feet  after  the  failure  of  "  The  Hesperian,"  as  publisher 
of  The  Ship  of  the  Line,  an  illustrated  weekly,  in  which  the 


356  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

same  head  did  duty  as  Gen.  Cass,  Pius  IX..  and  the  inventor 
of  the  Air-Tight  Stove.  —  when  Mr.  Jenks,  I  say,  occupied 
another  back-office,  and  badgered  new  aspirants  for  publicity 
with.  "  What  "s  the  handle  to  your  Brown  ?  —  or  Jones  ?  "  — 
he  summoned  me  to  his  presence  and  graciously  offered  me 
five  dollars  for  a  weekly  sketch  of  the  popular  kind,  not  to 
exceed  half  a  column  in  length. 

-  Xot  too  moral,"  he  added,  by  way  of  caution.  "  though 
they  must  lean  that  way.  If  you  can  make  'em  a  little  racy, 
—  you  understand.  —  but  not  so  that  it  can  be  taken  hold 
of.  they  '11  go  all  the  better.  There  's  that  book,  '  Pepper 
Pot'  for  instance,  sold  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  copies 
in  six  months.  —  puffed  hi  all  the  religious  papers,  —  would 
have  been  a  fortune  to  me." 

I  naturally  rebelled  against  this  sort  of  dictation,  but 
having  encountered  it  wherever  I  turned,  I  supposed  that 
it  was  a  universal  habit  of  publishers,  and  must  of  necessity 
be  endured.  The  articles  required  could  be  easily  enough 
produced,  and  the  fee.  small  as  it  was,  might  accumulate  to 
a  respectable  little  sum  if  laid  aside,  week  by  week,  with 
whatever  else  I  could  spare.  I  therefore  accepted  the  offer, 
and  was  laughed  at  by  Brandagee  for  not  having  asked 
twenty  dollars. 

"  If  you  want  to  be  valued,"  said  he,  "  you  must  be  your 
own  appraiser.  Taking  what 's  offered  is  admitting  that 
you  're  only  worth  so  much.  There  was  Fleurot,  —  I  knew 
hhii  when  he  ha<J  but  one  shirt  and  washed  it  with  his  own 
hands  every  night  but  he  would  n't  take  a  centime  less  than 
five  thousand  francs  for  the  picture  on  his  easel,  and  got  it, 
sir!  —  got  it  after  waiting  eighteen  months.  Then  he 
doubled  his  price  and  played  the  same  game.  Now,  if  you 
want  anything  from  his  brush,  you  must  order  it  six  years 
in  advance." 

There  was  a  large  kernel  of  truth  in  Brandagee's  words, 
as  I  afterwards  had  occasion  to  discover.  He  had  been  ab 
sent  during  the  summer,  as  the  Avenger's  correspondent  at 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  357 

the  watering-places,  claiming  his  rights  as  "  dead-head  "  on 
railways  and  in  hotels,  and  now  returned  more  audacious 
and  imperious  than  ever.  During  his  absence,  the  Cave  of 
Trophonius  had  been,  for  the  most  part,  deserted.  Miles 
confessed  that  he  had  been  obliged  to  accommodate  "  other 
parties  "  with  the  use  of  its  oracular  walls,  but  he  promised 
that  "  you  literary  gents  shall  'ave  it  agin,  'avin'  a  sort  o' 
fust  claim." 

These  things,  however,  belong  to  the  unimportant  inci 
dents  of  my  life.  An  event  occurred  —  as  I  find  by  a  ref 
erence  to  the  files  of  the  Daily  Wonder  fo*r  the  year  185— 
—  on  the  night  of  the  27th  of  September,  which  was  of 
vital  consequence  to  my  subsequent  fortunes. 

One  of  the  assistant  reporters  was  sick,  and  in  case  any 
thing  of  interest  should  transpire,  it  was  expected  that  I 
should  perform  his  duty.  I  had  been  unusually  busy  through 
the  day,  and  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night  had  just  corrected 
and  sent  into  the  composing-room  my  last  "  copy  "  for  the 
morning's  paper,  when  the  bell  on  the  City  Hall  began  to 
boom  the  announcement  of  a  fire.  I  forced  open  my  heavy 
eyelids,  gave  up,  with  a  sigh,  the  near  prospect  of  sleep 
and  rest,  seized  my  pencil  and  note-book,  and  hurried  off 
in  the  direction  indicated  by  the  strokes. 

It  was  a  damp,  misty  night,  I  remember,  and  as  I  reached 
the  elevation  of  Broadway  at  Leonard  Street,  I  could 
distinguish  a  dull  glimmer  over  the  tops  of  the  tall  houses 
on  the  western  side.  I  could  hear  the  sharp,  quick  rattle 
of  a  fire-engine  dashing  up  Church  Street,  while  others, 
coming  from  the  eastern  part  of  the  city,  shot  through  the 
Canal  Street  crossing.  The  fire  was  somewhere  in  the  Tenth 
Ward,  it  seemed,  —  a  trifling  affair,  not  worth  keeping  me 
from  my  bed,  I  thought,  but  for  the  certainty  of  the  Aven 
ger's  reporter  being  on  hand,  eager  to  distance  the  Wonder 
in  the  morning,  and  then  proclaim  the  fact,  next  day,  as 
a  triumph  of  "  newspaper  enterprise." 

A  few  minutes  more  brought  me  to  the  scene.     It  was  in 


358  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

Green  Street,  near  Broome.  The  flames  were  already 
bursting  out  of  the  windows  of  a  tall  brick  house ;  three 
or  four  streams  from  as  many  engines  were  sparkling  and 
hissing  in  the  red  light,  having  as  yet  made  no  headway 
against  the  conflagration  ;  and  a  line  of  policemen,  on  either 
side,  kept  back  the  increasing  mass  of  spectators.  There 
were  shouts  of  command,  cries,  exclamations  ;  alarm  and 
excitement  in  the  opposite  and  adjoining  houses,  and  a  wet. 
sooty,  dirty  chaos  of  people,  furniture,  beams,  and  bricks, 
pouring  out  from  below,  or  hurled  down  from  above  the 
fiery  confusion.  I  was  accustomed  to  such  scenes  and 
thought  only  of  following  my  professional  instinct,  —  ascer 
taining  the  name  of  the  owner  of  the  property,  its  value, 
and  the  amount  of  insurance  upon  it. 

A  word  to  a  captain  of  police,  and  the  exhibition  of  my 
pencil  and  note-book,  procured  me  admission  into  the  space 
cleared  for  the  engines  and  hose-carriages  in  front  of  the 
fire.  Here  I  was  alternately  sprinkled  by  upward  spirts 
from  pin-holes  in  the  snaky  hose,  and  scorched  by  downward 
whiffs  of  air,  but  I  had  the  entire  scene  under  my  eye  and 
could  pick  up  my  information  from  the  tenants  of  the  burn 
ing  house,  as  soon  as  they  had  done  saving  their  mattresses 
and  looking-glasses,  —  the  objects  first  rescued  on  such 
occasions. 

The  second  house  on  the  left,  just  opposite  my  perch  on 
the  top  of  a  shabby  chest  of  drawers,  was  brilliantly  light 
ed.  The  shutters  being  thrown  back  and  the  windows 
opened,  I  looked  directly  into  a  sumptuous  double  parlor, 
which  appeared  to  be  the  scene  of  an  interrupted  enter 
tainment.  The  lid  of  the  piano  was  lifted,  and  a  table  in 
the  centre  was  covered  with  glasses  and  bottles.  At  each 
window  were  grouped  three  or  four  girls,  with  bare  white 
shoulders  and  arms,  talking  and  laughing  loudly  with  such 
firemen  as  took  a  moment's  breathing-spell  on  the  sidewalk 
under  them.  Glasses,  I  could  see,  were  occasionally  passed 
down  to  the  latter. 


JOHN    GODl'KEY'S  1'OKTUNES.  359 

"  It 's  a  chance  if  Old  Western  is  n't  smoked  out  of  her 
hole,"  remarked  one  policeman  to  another. 

"  Faith,  she  might  be  spared  from  this  neighborhood," 
the  latter  answered,  laughing.  "They  are  carrying  the 
hose  up  to  her  roof,  now ! " 

I  looked  up  and  saw  the  helmet  and  red  shirt  of  a  fire 
man  behind  the  eaves.  The  street-door  was  entered  with 
out  ceremony,  and  I  presently  noticed  a  commotion  among 
the  careless  inmates.  A  policeman  made  his  appearance 
in  the  parlor ;  the  bottles  were  swiftly  removed,  and,  at  a 
signal  from  a  middle-aged  woman,  with  a  hawk's  beak  of  a 
nose,  the  girls  disappeared. 

All  at  once,  a  part  of  the  roof  of  the  burning  building 
fell  in.  A  cloud  of  fiery  dust  arose,  raining  into  the  street 
as  it  rolled  across  the  inky  sky.  The  heat  became  intense : 
the  men  who  worked  the  nearest  engine  were  continually 
drenched  with  water  to  prevent  their  clothes  taking  fire. 
My  position  became  untenable,  without  more  risk  than  a 
reporter  is  justified  in  running  for  the  sake  of  an  item  of 
twelve  lines,  and  I  hastily  retreated  across  the  street.  By 
this  time  many  other  engines  had  arrived,  and  larger  space 
was  required  for  their  operations.  I  was  literally  driven  to 
the  wall  by  the  press  of  wheels  and  water-jets  and  the  reck 
less  earnestness  of  the  firemen. 

Perceiving  a  narrow,  arched  passage  between  the  two 
houses,  —  an  old-fashioned  kitchen-entrance,  —  I  took  ref 
uge  in  it.  The  conflagration  lighted  up  the  further  end, 
and  showed  me  that  a  hose  had  been  already  laid  there 
and  carried  to  the  rear.  I  therefore  determined  to  follow 
it  and  ascertain  what  could  be  seen  from  the  other  side. 
By  the  help  of  some  stakes  and  the  remains  of  a  grape- 
arbor,  I  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  board-fence  which 
inclosed  the  back-yard.  The  wind  blew  from  the  west, 
and  thus,  although  I  found  myself  quite  near  to  the  fire, 
I  was  not  much  incommoded  by  the  heat.  The  brave  fel 
lows  on  the  roof  of  the  nearest  house  moved  about  in  dark 


360  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

relief  against  the  flickering,  surging  background  of  dun 
and  scarlet  light.  I  shuddered  as  I  saw  them  walking 
on  the  brink  and  peering  down  into  the  fatal  gulf.  A 
strong  reflected  lustre  was  thrown  upon  the  surrounding 
houses  from  the  low-hanging  mist,  and  revealed  every 
object  with  wonderful  distinctness. 

There  was  a  rear  wing  to  the  house  designated  by  the 
policeman  as  belonging  to  "  Old  Western,"  and  I  had  taken 
my  stand  near  one  corner  of  it,  at  the  junction  of  the  fences 
with  those  of  two  back-yards  belonging  to  the  opposite 
houses  in  Wooster  Street.  I  had  not  been  stationed  thus 
two  minutes,  before  an  agitated,  entreating  voice  came 
down  to  me,  — 

"  Oh,  sir,  good  sir,  —  please  help  me  to  get  away !  " 

I  looked  up.  A  window  in  the  end  of  the  rear  wing  was 
open,  and  out  of  it  leaned  a  girl,  partly  dressed,  and  with 
her  hair  hanging  about  her  ears,  but  with  a  shawl  closely 
drawn  over  her  shoulders  and  breast.  She  was  not  more 
than  seventeen  or  eighteen.  The  expression  of  her  face 
was  wild,  frightened,  eager,  and  I  imagined  that  she  was  so 
confused  by  fear  as  to  have  forgotten  the  ready  means  of 
escape  by  the  street-door. 

"  Please  help  me,  quick  —  quick  !  "  she  repeated. 
.  "  The  house  is  not  on  fire  yet,"  I  said  ;  "  you  can  go  out 
through  the  front  without  danger." 

"  Oh,  not  that  way,  —  not  that  way  ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  It 's  not  the  fire,  —  it 's  the  house  I  'm  afraid  of.  Oh,  save 
me,  sir,  save  me  !  " 

I  had  read,  in  the  Police  Gazette  and  other  classical 
papers  which  sometimes  fell  into  my  hands,  of  innocent 
girls  decoyed  into  dens  of  infamy,  very  much  as  I  had 
read  of  human  sacrifices  in  Dahomey,  without  supposing 
that  any  such  case  would  be  brought  directly  home  to  my 
own  experience.  This  seemed  to  me  to  be  an  instance  of 
the  kind,  —  the  girl,  at  least,  desired  to  escape  from  the 
house,  and  I  could  not  doubt,  one  moment,  the  obligation 
upon  me  to  give  her  assistance. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  361 

"  I  will  save  you  if  I  can/'  I  said,  "  but  it  is  impossible 
for  you  to  come  down  from  that  window.  Can  I  get  into 
the  house  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  time,"  she  panted,  —  "  you  do  not  know  the 
way,  —  she  might  come  back.  I  will  go  down  into  the 
yard,  and  you  can  help  me  over  the  fence.  Wait,  —  I  'm 
coming  !  " 

O 

With  these  words  she  disappeared  from  the  window.  I 
shared  her  haste  and  anxiety,  without  comprehending  it, 
and  set  about  devising  a  plan  to  get  her  over  the  inclosure. 
The  floor  of  the  yard  was  paved,  and,  I  judged,  about  ten 
feet  below  me  :  I  might  barely  reach  her  hand  by^stooping 
down,  but  it  would  be  very  difficult  to  lift  her  to  the  top 
without  a  stay  for  my  own  exertions.  All  at  once  I  caught 
an  idea  from  the  dilapidated  arbor.  It  was  an  easy  matter 
to  loosen  one  of  the  top-pieces,  with  its  transverse  lattice- 
bars,  and  let  it  down  in  the  corner.  This  furnished  at  the 
same  time  a  stay  for  me,  and  an  assistance  to  her  feet.  I 
had  barely  placed  it  in  the  proper  position  before  a  lower 
door  opened,  and  she  hurried  breathlessly  up  the  pavement. 

"  Quick  !  "  she  whispered ;  "  they  are  all  over  the  house, 
—  they  may  see  us  any  minute  !  " 

I  directed  her  how  to  climb.  The  lowest  strip  of  lattice 
broke  away ;  the  second  held,  and  it  enabled  her  to  reach 
my  hand.  In  two  more  seconds  she  stood,  tottering,  on  the 
narrow  ledge  beside  me. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  we  must  get  down  on  the  other  side." 

"  Here,  —  here  !  "  she  exclaimed,  pointing  into  the  gar 
den  of  one  of  the  Wooster-Street  houses,  —  "  we  must  get 
out  that  way.  Not  in  front,  —  she  would  see  me  !  " 

She  was  so  terribly  in  earnest  that  I  never  thought  of 
disputing  her  will.  I  carefully  drew  up  the  rough  ladder, 
let  it  down  on  the  other  side,  and  helped  her  to  descend. 
Then  I  followed. 

There  was  not  a  moment  to  spare.  I  had  scarcely 
touched  the  earth,  before  a  strong,  stern  woman's  voice 


362  JOHX   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

cried,  "  Jane  !  Jane  ! "  from  the  room  above  us.  The  girl 
shuddered  and  seized  me  by  the  arm.  I  bade  her,  with  a 
gesture,  crouch  in  the  corner,  where  she  would  be  safely 
hidden  from  view,  and  stole  along  the  fence  until  I  caught 
sight  of  the  window.  Once  the  hawk's  beak  passed  in  pro 
file  before  it,  and  the  same  voice  said,  "  Damn  the  girl ! 
where  is  she  ?  " 

A  strong  light  shone  into  the  room  through  a  window  on 
the  north  side.  There  was  a  slamming  of  doors,  a  dragging 
noise  accompanied  by  shouts,  and  then  a  male  voice,  which 
seemed  very  familiar  to  my  ear,  said,  as  if  in  reply  to  "  Old 
Western's  "  profane  exclamation,  — 

"  What 's  the  matter,  old  woman  ?     Lost  one  of  'em  ?  " 

In  a  moment,  the  hose  being  apparently  adjusted,  a  stout, 
square  figure  in  a  red  shirt  came  to  the  window.  I  could 
plainly  see  that  the  hair,  also,  was  red,  the  face  broad,  the 
neck  thick,  —  in  short,  that  it  was  my  young  friend,  Hugh 
Maloney. 

"  She  can't  ha'  jumped  out  here,"  he  said.  "  You  need 
n't  be  worrited,  —  you  '11  find  her  down  in  front  among 
your  other  gals." 

A  minute  or  two  of  further  waiting  convinced  me  that 
there  was  no  danger  of  the  means  of  escape  being  detected. 
The  occupants  of  the  Wooster-Street  houses  were  all  awake 
and  astir,  and  I  must  procure  an  exit  for  us  through  the 
one  to  which  the  garden  belonged.  I  spoke  a  word  of  en 
couragement  to  the  girl,  picked  up  the  light  bundle  of 
clothes  she  had  brought  with  her,  and  boldly  approached 
the  rear  of  the  house.  This  movement,  of  course,  was  ob 
served  by  the  spectators  at  the  bedroom  windows,  and, 
after  a  little  parley,  a  man  came  down  with  a  candle  and 
admitted  us  into  the  back-kitchen.  When  he  had  carefully 
refastened  the  bolts,  darting  a  suspicious  glance  at  myself 
and  my  companion,  he  conducted  us  through  to  the  front 
door.  A  woman's  face,  framed  in  a  nightcap,  looked  down 
at  us  around  the  staircase-landing,  and,  just  before  the  door 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  363 

slammed  behind  us,  I  heard  her  call  out,  "  Don't  let  any 
more  of  those  creatures  pass ! " 

I  fancy  the  girl  must  have  heard  it  too,  for  she  turned  to 
me  with  a  fresh  appeal,  —  "I  'm  not  safe  yet,  —  take  me 
away,  —  away  out  of  danger ! " 

I  gave  her  my  arm,  to  which  she  clung  as  if  it  were  a 
fluke  of  Hope's  own  anchor,  and  said,  as  we  walked  up  the 
streets,  — 

"  Where  do  you  wish  to  go  ?  Have  you  no  friends  or 
acquaintances  in  the  city  ?  " 

"  Oh,  none  ! "  she  cried.  "  I  don't  know  anybody  but  — 
but  one  I  ought  n't  to  have  ever  known !  I  'm  from  the 

o 

country ;  I  did  n't  go  into  that  house  of  my  own  will,  and 
I  could  n't  get  out  after  I  found  what  it  was.  I  know  what 
you  must  think  of  me,  sir,  but  I  '11  tell  you  everything,  and 
maybe,  then,  you  '11  believe  that  I  'm  not  quite  so  wicked  as 
I  seem.  Take  me  anywhere,  —  I  don't  care  if  it 's  a  shanty, 
so  I  can  hide  and  be  safe.  Don't  think  that  I  meant  your 
own  house  ;  you  've  helped  me,  and  I  'd  die  rather  than  put 
disgrace  on  you.  The  Lord  help  me  !  —  I  may  be  doing 
that  now." 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  began  to  cry. 
I  felt  that  she  spoke  the  simple  truth,  and  my  pity  and 
sympathy  were  all  the  more  keen,  because  I  had  never  be 
fore  encountered  this  form  of  a  ruined  life.  I  was  resolved 
to  help  her,  cost  what  it  might.  As  for  disgrace,  the  very 
fear  she  expressed  showed  her  ignorance  of  the  world.  In 
a  great  city,  unfortunately,  young  men  may  brave  more 
than  one  aspect  of  disgrace  with  perfect  impunity. 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  go  back  to  your  friends  in  the 
country  ?  "  I  asked,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 

"  I  could  n't,"  she  moaned.  "  I  think  it  would  kill  me 
to  meet  any  of  them  now.  It  was  a  sin  to  leave  them  the 
way  I  did.  If  I  could  get  shelter  in  some  out-of-the-way 
street  where  there  'd  be  no  danger  of  her  finding  me,  — 
no  matter  how  poor  and  mean  it  was,  —  I  'd  work  night  and 


364  JOHtf  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

day  to  earn  an  honest  living.  I  'm  handy  with  the  needle, 
—  it 's  the  trade  I  was  learning  when  "  — 

A  plan  had  presented  itself  to  my  mind  while  she  was 
speaking.  I  think  that  vision  of  Hugh's  head  at  the  win 
dow  suggested  it.  I  would  go  with  her  to  Mary  Maloney 
and  beg  Ijjie  latter  to  give  her  shelter  for  a  day  or  two, 
until  employment  could  be  found.  In  Gooseberry  Alley 
she  would  be  secure  against  discovery,  and  I  believed  that 
Mary  Maloney,  even  if  she  knew  the  girl's  history,  would 
be  willing  to  help  her  at  my  request.  Nevertheless,  I  re 
flected,  it  was  better,  perhaps,  not  to  put  the  widow  to  this 
test.  It  would  be  enough  to  say  that  the  girl  was  a  stranger 
who  had  come  to  the  city,  had  been  disappointed  in  obtain 
ing  employment,  and  now  found  herself  alone,  friendless, 
and  without  means.  Then  I  remembered,  also,  that  my 
own  stock  of  linen  needed  to  be  replenished,  and  I  could 
therefore  supply  her  with  occupation  for  the  first  week  or 
two. 

I  stated  this  plan  in  a  few  words,  and  it  was  gladly  ac 
cepted.  The  girl  overwhelmed  me  with  her  professions  of 
gratitude,  of  her  desire  to  work  faithfully  and  prove  herself 
deserving  of  help.  She  knew  she  could  never  recover  her 
good  name,  she  said,  but  it  should  not  be  made  worse.  I, 
who  had  saved  her,  must  have  evidence  that  I  had  not  done 
it  in  vain. 

As  we  turned  down  Houston  in  the  direction  of  Sullivan 
Street,  we  met  a  party  of  four  aristocratic  youths,  in  the 
first  stage  of  elegant  dissipation.  The  girl  clung  to  my 
arm  so  convulsively  and  seemed  so  alarmed  that  I  crossed 
with  her  to  the  opposite  sidewalk.  They  stopped  and  ap 
parently  scrutinized  us  closely.  I  walked  forward,  how 
ever,  without  turning  my  head  until  we  reached  the  corner 
of  Sullivan  Street.  When  I  looked  back,  they  had  disap 
peared,  —  there  was  only  a  single  person,  standing  in  the 
shadow  of  the  trees. 

Gooseberry  Alley  was  quiet,  and  the  coolness  of  the 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  365 

night  had  partly  suppressed  its  noisome  odors.  I  stopped 
under  the  lamp  at  the  corner,  and,  while  I  said,  "  This  is 
the  place  I  spoke  of,  —  are  you  willing  to  try  it  ?  "  —  exam 
ined  the  girl's  face  for  the  first  time. 

She  was  rather  short  of  stature,  but  of  slight  and  grace 
ful  build.  Her  face  was  pale,  but  the  bloom  of  her  lips 
showed  that  her  cheeks  could  no  doubt  match  them  with 
a  pretty  tint  of  pink.  Her  eyes  —  either  of  dark  gray  or 
hazel  —  were  troubled,  but  something  of  their  girlish  ex 
pression  of  innocent  ignorance  remained.  A  simple,  honest 
loving  heart,  I  was  sure,  still  beat  beneath  the  mask  of 
sadness  and  shame.  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  I  was 
too  young  to  be  her  protector,  —  that  the  relation  between 
us  would  not  only  be  very  suspicious  in  the  sight  of  the 
world,  but  was  in  itself  both  delicate  and  difficult.  Neither 
did  it  occur  to  me  that  I  might  have  dispensed  with  the 
confession  she  had  promised  to  make,  sparing  her  its  pain, 
and  allowing  her  to  work  out  her  redemption  silently,  with 
the  little  help  I  was  able  to  give.  On  the  contrary,  I  im 
agined  that  this  confession  was  necessary,  —  that  it  was  my 
duty  to  hear,  as  hers  to  give  it. 

"  I  have  not  time  to  hear  your  story  to-night,"  I  said. 
"  I  will  see  you  again  soon.  But  you  have  not  yet  told  me 
your  name." 

"  Jane  Berry,"  she  whispered. 

"  And  mine  is  John  Godfrey." 

I  knocked  at  the  door  of  the  tenement-house,  and  after 
some  delay,  and  the  preliminary  projection  of  Feeny's 
sleepy  head  from  the  second-story  window,  was  admitted  by 
Mary  Maloney  herself.  She  had  sprung  out  of  bed  and 
rushed  down-stairs  in  a  toilette  improvised  for  the  occasion, 
—  a  ragged  patch-work  quilt  held  tightly  to  her  spare  body 
and  trailing  on  the  floor  behind  her,  —  under  the  impres 
sion  that  something  must  have  happened  to  Hugh.  In  or 
der  to  allay  her  fears,  I  came  within  an  ace  of  betraying 
that  I  had  seen  the  latter.  I  told  her  the  fictitious  story 


366  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

(Heaven  pardon  me  for  it ! )  which  I  had  composed,  and 
asked  her  assistance.  The  fragment  of  burning  tallow  in 
her  hand  revealed  enough  of  Jane  Berry's  pretty  face  and 
tearful,  imploring  eyes,  to  touch  the  Irishwoman's  heart. 

"  Indade,  and  it 's  little  I  can  do,"  she  said,  "  but  you  're 
welcome  to  that  little,  Miss,  even  without  Mr.  Godfrey's 
askin'.  And  to  think  that  you  met  him  in  the  street,  too, 
jist  as  I  did  !  It  's  a  mercy  it  was  him,  instid  o'  the  other 
young  fellows  that  goes  ragin'  around  o'  nights." 

I  could  imagine  the  pang  which  these  words  caused  to 
the  poor  girl's  heart,  and  therefore,  saying  that  I  had  still 
work  to  do,  and  they  must  both  go  to  rest  at  once,  hurried 
away  from  the  house. 

My  notes  were  incomplete,  and  I  was  obliged  to  return  to 
the  scene  of  the  fire,  where  I  found  smoke  and  ruin  instead 
of  flames.  Two  or  three  engines  were  playing  into  the 
smouldering  hollows,  sending  up  clouds  of  steam  from  the 
hot  bricks  and  burning  timbers,  and  the  torches  of  the  fire 
men  showed  the  piles  of  damaged  furniture  in  the  plashy 
street.  Two  houses  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  walls  of 
one  having  fallen,  there  was  a  gap  like  a  broken  tooth  in 
the  even  line  of  the  block. 

I  soon  learned  that  there  had  been  an  accident.  The 
front  wall,  crashing  down  unexpectedly,  had  fallen  upon  a 
fireman  who  was  in  the  act  of  removing  a  ladder.  They 
had  carried  him  to  the  nearest  druggist's  on  Broadway,  and 
it  was  feared  that  his  hurt  was  fatal.  The  men  talked  about 
it  calmly,  as  of  an  ordinary  occurrence,  but  performed  their 
duties  with  a  slow,  mechanical  air,  which  told  of  weariness 
and  sadness. 

Of  course,  I  was  obliged  to  visit  the  druggist's,  and  ob 
tain  the  name  and  condition  of  the  unfortunate  man.  The 
business  of  a  reporter  precludes  indulgence  in  sentiment, 
prohibits  delicacy  of  feeling.  If  the  victim  of  a  tragedy  is 
able  to  give  his  name,  age,  and  place  of  residence,  he  may 
then  die  in  peace.  The  family,  drowned  in  tears  and  de- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  367 

spair,  must  nevertheless  furnish  the  particulars  of  the  mur 
der  or  suicide.  Public  curiosity,  represented  by  the  agent 
of  the  newspaper,  claims  its  privilege,  and  will  not  abate 
one  item  of  the  harrowing  details. 

The  policeman,  guarding  the  door  from  the  rush  of  an 
excited  crowd,  admitted  me  behind  the  blue  and  crimson 
globes.  The  injured  man,  bedded  on  such  cushions  as  the 
shop  afforded,  lay  upon  the  floor,  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
his  fellow-firemen.  His  shirt  had  been  cut  off,  and  his 
white,  massive  breast  lay  bare  under  the  lamp.  There  was 
no  external  sign  of  injury,  but  a  professional  eye  could  see 
knobs  and  protrusions  of  flesh  which  did  not  correspond  to 
the  natural  overlapping  of  the  muscles.  A  surgeon,  kneel 
ing  beside  his  head,  held  one  arm,  with  his  finger  on 
the  pulse,  and  wiped  away  with  a  sponge  the  bloody  foam 
which  bubbled  from  his  lips. 

Presently  the  man  opened  his  eyes,  —  large,  clear,  sol 
emn  eyes,  full  of  mysterious,  incomprehensible  speech. 
His  lips  moved  feebly,  and  although  no  sound  came  from 
them,  I  saw,  and  I  think  all  the  others  saw,  that  the  word 
he  would  have  uttered  was,  "  Good-bye  ! " 

"  He  has  but  a  minute  more,  poor  fellow ! "  whispered 
the  surgeon. 

Then,  as  by  a  single  impulse,  each  one  of  the  rough  group 
of  firemen  took  off  his  helmet,  knelt  upon  the  floor,  and 
reverently  bowed  his  head  in  silence  around  the  dying  man. 
I  knelt  beside  them,  awed  and  thrilled  to  the  depths  of  my 
soul  by  the  scene.  The  fading  lips  partly  curved  in  an  in 
effable  smile  of  peace ;  the  eyes  did  not  close  again,  but 
the  life  slowly  died  out  of  them ;  a  few  convulsive  move 
ments  of  the  body,  and  the  shattered  breast  became  stone. 
Then  a  hand  gently  pressed  down  the  lids,  and  the  kneel 
ing  men  arose.  There  was  not  a  sob,  nor  a  sound,  but 
every  face  was  wet  with  tears  unconsciously  shed.  They 
lifted  the  body  of  their  comrade  and  bore  him  tenderly 
away. 


368  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

It  was  nearly  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  my 
task  was  finished,  and  I  could  go  home  to  bed  with  a  good 
conscience.  I  had  passed  the  crisis  of  fatigue,  and  was  pre- 
ternaturally  awake  in  every  sense.  The  two  incidents  of 
the  night  powerfully  affected  me ;  dissimilar  as  they  were, 
either  seemed  to  spring  from  something  originally  noble 
and  undefiled  in  the  nature  of  Man.  The  homage  of  those 
firemen  to  the  sanctity  of  Death  made  them  my  brothers ; 
the  ruder  and  more  repellant  aspects  of  their  lives  drifted 
away  like  smoke  before  this  revelation  of  tenderness.  To 
Jane  Berry,  however,  my  relation  assumed  the  pride  and 
importance  of  a  protector,  —  possibly  of  a  saving  agent. 
The  remembrance  of  what  I  had  done  in  her  case  filled 
me  with  perfect,  serene  happiness.  I  will  not  say  that  van 
ity,  —  that  selfishness  (though  Heaven  knows  how ! )  had 
no  part  in  my  satisfaction ;  many  profound  teachers  and 
exceedingly  proper  persons  will  tell  us  so  ;  —  nor  do  I  much 
care.  I  knew  that  I  had  done  a  good  deed,  and  it  was  right 
I  should  deem  that  the  approving  smile  of  Our  Father  hal 
lowed  my  sleep  that  night. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  369 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

IN  WHICH    PENROSE   FLINGS   DOWN   THE    GLOVE  AND  I  PICK 
IT    UP. 

MARY  MALONEY  called  upon  me  the  next  morning,  as  I 
had  requested  her  to  do.  The  girl,  she  said,  had  shared 
her  own  bed,  and  had  risen  apparently  refreshed  and  cheer 
ful.  Hugh,  who  came  home  after  midnight,  had  been  in 
clined  to  oppose  the  acceptance  of  the  new  tenant,  until  she 
explained  to  him  the  "  rights  of  it,"  whereupon  he  had 
acquiesced.  She  thought  there  would  not  be  much  diffi 
culty  in  procuring  work,  as  the  busy  season  for  tailors  and 
sempstresses  was  coming  on ;  and,  meantime,  she  herself 
would  attend  to  buying  the  linen  and  other  materials  for 
my  new  shirts. 

Having  furnished  the  money  for  this  purpose,  and  added 
a  small  sum  for  the  girl's  support  until  she  was  able  to 
earn  something,  I  considered  that  nothing  more  could  be 
done  until  my  knowledge  of  her  story  gave  me  other  means 
of  assisting  her.  I  was  naturally  curious  to  learn  more  about 
her,  but  my  occupation  during  the  days  immediately  suc 
ceeding  the  fire  prevented  my  promised  visit,  and  very 
soon  other  events  occurred  to  delay  it  still  further. 

Mrs.  Deering  returned  from  her  summer  residence  on 
the  Sound  during  the  first  week  of  October,  and  I  was  not 
long  in  discovering  the  fact  and  calling  upon  her.  She 
had  corresponded  with  Miss  Haworth  during  the  summer, 
and  gave,  without  my  asking,  an  outline  of  the  latter's 
journey,  adding  that  she  was  now  on  her  way  home.  If 
I  had  not  already  betrayed  myself  to  Miss  Deering's  de- 
24 


370  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

tective  eye,  I  must  certainly  have  done  it  then.  I  felt  and 
expressed  altogether  too  much  happiness  for  a  young  gen 
tleman  to  manifest  in  regard  to  the  return  of  a  young  lady, 
without  some  special  cause.  I  was  perfectly  willing  that 
she  should  suspect  my  secret,  so  long  as  its  disclosure  was 
reserved  for  the  one  who  had  the  first  right  to  hear  it. 

From  that  day  my  walks  at  leisure  times  extended  be 
yond  Fourteenth  Street.  I  watched  the  house  in  Gra- 
mercy  Park,  until  observed  (detected,  I  fancied)  by  Mr. 
Tracy  Floyd,  who  tossed  me  an  insolent  half-recognition 
as  he  passed.  In  a  week,  however,  there  was  evidence  of 
Miss  Haworth's  arrival.  I  did  not  see  her,  but  there  was 
no  mistaking  the  character  of  the  trunks  which  were  un 
loaded  from  an  express-wagon  at  the  door. 

I  allowed  two  days  to  elapse  before  calling.  It  was  a 
compromise  between  prudence  and  impatience.  The  event 
was  of  too  much  importance  to  hazard  an  unsatisfactory 
issue.  Not  that  I  intended  declaring  my  love,  or  con 
sciously  permitting  it  to  be  expressed  in  my  words  and 
actions ;  but  I  felt  that  in  thus  meeting,  after  an  absence 
of  some  months,  there  would  be  something  either  to  flatter 
my  hope  or  discourage  it  wholly. 

I  dressed  myself  and  took  my  way  across  Union  Square 
and  up  Fourth  Avenue,  with  considerable  trepidation  of 
mind.  I  was  aware  that  my  visit  was  sanctioned  by  the 
liberal  conventionalism  of  the  city,  and,  moreover,  I  had 
her  permission  to  make  it,  —  yet  the  consciousness  of 
the  secret  I  carried  troubled  me.  My  heart  throbbed 
restlessly  as  when,  three  or  four  years  before,  I  had  car 
ried  my  poem  of  the  "  Unknown  Bard "  to  the  newspaper 
office.  But  I  never  thought  of  turning  back  this  time. 

I  was  so  fortunate  as  to  find  Miss  Haworth  at  home  and 
Mr.  Floyd  out.  The  latter,  I  suspect,  had  not  credited  me 
with  boldness  enough  for  the  deed,  and  had  therefore  taken 
no  precautions  against  guarding  the  beauty  and  the  fortune 
which  he  was  determined  to  possess. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  371 

I  looked  around  the  sumptuous  parlor  while  awaiting 
Miss  Haworth's  appearance,  and  recognized  in  the  pictures, 
the  bronzes,  the  elegant  disposition  of  furniture  and  orna 
ments,  the  evidence  of  her  taste.  It  was  wealth,  not  coarse, 
glaring,  and  obtrusive,  but  chastened  and  ennobled  by  cul 
ture.  Thank  God !  I  whispered  to  myself,  money  is  her 
slave,  not  her  deity. 

The  silken  rustling  on  the  stairs  sent  a  thousand  tremors 
along  my  nerves,  but  I  steadily  faced  the  door  by  which 
she  would  enter,  and  advanced  to  meet  her  as  soon  as  I 
saw  the  gray  gleam  of  her  dress.  How  bright  and  beau 
tiful  she  was !  —  not  flashing  and  dazzling  as  one  accus 
tomed  to  conquest,  but  with  a  soft,  subdued  lustre,  folding 
in  happy  warmth  the  heart  that  reverently  approached  her. 
Her  face  had  caught  a  bloom  and  her  eye  an  added  clear 
ness  from  the  breezes  of  the  Northwest ;  I  dared  not 
take  to  myself  the  least  ray  of  her  cheerful  brightness. 
But  I  did  say  —  for  I  could  not  help  it  —  that  I  was  very 
glad  to  see  her  again,  and  that  I  had  often  thought  of  her 
during  the  long  summer. 

"  You  must  have  found  it  long,  indeed,"  she  said,  "  not 
being  allowed  to  escape  from  the  city.  I  am  afraid  I  have 
hardly  deserved  my  magnificent  holiday,  except  by  enjoy 
ing  it.  You,  who  could  have  described  the  shores  of  Lake 
Superior  and  the  cliffs  and  cataracts  of  the  Upper  Missis 
sippi,  ought  to  have  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  them  rather 
than  myself." 

"  No,  no  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  The  capacity  to  enjoy  gives 
you  the  very  highest  right.  And  I  am  sure  that  you  can 
also  describe.  Do  you  remember  your  promise,  when  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  you  in  the  Exhibition  Rooms  ?  You 
were  to  tell  me  about  all  you  should  see." 

"  Was  it  a  promise  ?  Then  I  must  try  to  deserve  my 
privilege  in  that  way.  But  here  ig  something  better 
than  description,  which  I  have  brought  back  with  me." 

She  took  a  portfolio  from  the  table  and  drew  out  a  number 


372  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

of  photographic  views.  The  inspection  of  these  required 
explanations  on  her  part,  and  she  was  unconsciously  led 
to  add  her  pictures  to  those  of  the  sun.  I  saw  how  truly 
she  had  appreciated  and  how  clearly  remembered  the 
scenes  of  her  journey ;  our  conversation  became  frank, 
familiar,  and  in  the  highest  degree  delightful  to  me.  A 
happy  half-hour  passed  away,  and  I  had  entirely  forgotten 
the  proprieties,  to  the  observance  of  which  I  had  mentally 
bound  myself,  when  the  servant  announced,  — 

"  Mr.  Penrose  ! " 

I  started,  and,  from  an  impulse  impossible  to  resist, 
looked  at  Miss  Haworth.  I  fancied  that  an  expression 
of  surprise  and  annoyance  passed  over  her  face,  —  but  it 
was  so  faint  that  I  could  not  be  certain.  My  conversation 
with  her  concerning  him,  at  Deering's  "  very  sociable " 
party,  recurred  to  my  mind,  and  I  awaited  his  entrance 
with  a  curious  interest.  There  was  nothing  in  the  manner 
of  her  reception,  however,  to  enlighten  me.  She  was 
quietly  self-possessed,  and  as  cordial  as  their  previous 
social  intercourse  required. 

On  the  other  hand,  Penrose,  I  thought,  was  not  quite  at 
ease.  I  had  not  seen  him  before,  since  his  return  from  Sar 
atoga,  and  was  prepared  for  the  quick  glance  of  surprise 
with  which  he  regarded  me.  The  steady,  penetrating  ex 
pression  of  his  eyes,  as  we  shook  hands,  drew  a  little  color 
into  my  face ;  he  was  so  skilful  in  reading  me  that  I  feared 
my  secret  was  no  longer  safe.  For  this  very  reason  I  de 
termined  to  remain,  and  assume  a  more  formal  air,  in  the 
hope  of  deceiving  him.  Besides,  I  was  desirous  to  study, 
if  possible,  the  degree  and  character  of  his  acquaintance 
with  Miss  Haworth. 

"  Ah !  these  are  souvenirs  of  your  trip,  I  suppose,"  he 
said,  glancing  at  the  photographs  as  he  rolled  a  heavy  vel 
vet  chair  towards  the  table  and  took  his  seat.  "  I  only 
heard  of  your  arrival  this  evening,  from  Mrs.  Deering,  and 
hoped  that  I  would  be  the  first  to  compliment  you  on  your 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  373 

daring ;  but  Mr.  Godfrey,  I  see,  has  deprived  me  of  that 
pleasure." 

To  my  surprise,  a  light  flush  ran  over  Miss  Haworth's 
face,  and  she  hesitated  a  moment,  as  if  uncertain  what  reply 
to  make.  It  was  but  for  a  moment ;  she  picked  up  some 
of  the  photographs  and  said,  — 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  these  views  of  Lake  Pepin  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  answered,  running  over  them  like  a  pack  of 
cards ;  "  superb !  magnificent !  By  Jove,  I  shall  have  to 
make  the  trip  myself.  But  I  would  rather  see  a  photograph 
of  Lake  George.  What  *a  pity  we  can't  fix  heroic  deeds  as 
well  as  landscapes  !  " 

"  Mr.  Penrose,"  Miss  Haworth  remarked,  with  an  air  of 
quiet  dignity,  "  I  would  rather,  if  you  please,  not  hear  any 
further  allusion  to  that." 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Haworth,"  he  said,  bowing  gravely ; 
"  I  ought  to  have  known  that  you  are  as  modest  as  you  are 
courageous.  I  will  be  silent,  of  course,  but  you  cannot  for 
bid  me  the  respect  and  admiration  I  shall  always  feel." 

What  did  they  mean  ?  Something  of  which  I  was  igno 
rant  had  evidently  taken  place,  and  her  disinclination  to 
hear  it  discussed  prevented  me  from  asking  a  question.  My 
interest  in  the  conversation  increased,  although  the  pause 
which  ensued  after  Penrose's  last  words  hinted  to  me  that 
the  subject  must  be  changed.  I  was  trying  to  think  of  a 
fresh  topic,  when  he  resumed,  with  his  usual  easy  adroit 
ness,  — 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  ever  did  a  really  good  deed  in  my 
life,  Miss  Haworth,  —  that  is,  with  deliberate  intention. 
One  does  such  things  accidentally,  sometimes." 

"  Don't  believe  him ! "  said  I.  "  lie  likes  to  be  thought 
worse  than  he  really  is." 

"If  that  is  true,  I  should  call  it  a  perverted  vanity,"  Miss 
Haworth  remarked. 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  Penrose  replied  to  her,  "  but  it  is 
not  true.  I  have  no  mind  to  be  considered  worse  than  I 


374  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

am,  but  to  be  considered  better  implies  hypocrisy  on  my 
part.  I  might  compromise  for  my  lack  of  active  goodness, 
as  most  people  do,  by  liberal  contributions  to  missions  and 
tract-societies,  and  rejoice  in  a  saintly  reputation.  But 
where  would  be  the  use  ?  It  would  only  be  playing  a  more 
tiresome  role  in  the  great  comedy.  Because  I  am  not  the 
virtuous  hero,  I  need  not  necessarily  be  the  insidious  villain 
of  the  plot.  The  walking  gentleman  suits  me  better.  I 
know  all  the  other  characters,  but  they  are  my  '  k}ind 
friends,' —  I  treat  them  with  equal  politeness,  avoid  their 
fuss  and  excitement,  and  reach*  the  denouement  without 
tearing  my  hair  or  deranging  my  dress." 

He  spoke  in  a  gay,  rattling  tone,  as  if  not  expecting  that 
his  assertions  would  be  believed.  Miss  Haworth  smiled  at 
the  part  he  assumed,  but  said  nothing. 

"  What  will  you  do  when  the  play  is  over  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Come,  Godfrey,  don't  bring  me  to  bay.  Everything  on 
this  planet  repeats  itself  once  in  twenty-eight  thousand  years. 
In  the  mean  time,  I  may  go  on  a  starring  tour  (pardon  the 
pun,  Miss  Haworth,  it  is  n't  my  habit)  through  the  other 
parts  of  the  universe.  Why  should  one  be  brought  up  with 
a  serious  round  turn  at  every  corner  ?  It  should  be  the 
object  of  one's  life  to  escape  the  seriousness  of  Life." 

"  Death  is  the  most  serious  aspect  of  Life,"  I  said,  "  and 
it  is  not  well  that  we  should  turn  our  faces  away  from  it." 

I  could  not  talk  lightly  on  subjects  of  such  earnest  im 
port.  Death  and  ruin  had  too  recently  touched  my  own 
experience.  I  began  to  tell  the  story  of  the  crushed  fire 
man,  and  Penrose,  though  at  first  he  looked  bored,  finally 
succumbed  to  the  impression  of  the  death-scene.  I  found 
myself  strangely  moved  as  I  recounted  the  particulars,  and 
it  required  some  effort  to  preserve  the  steadiness  of  my 
voice.  When  I  closed  there  were  tears  in  Miss  Haworth's 
lovely  eyes.  Penrose  drew  a  long  breath  and  exclaimed, — 
"  That  was  a  grand  exit." 

Then  his  face  darkened,  and  he  became  silent  and  moody. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  375 

I  heard  the  street-door  open,  and  suspecting  that  it  was 
Mr.  Tracy  Floyd,  whom  I  had  no  desire  to  meet,  rose  to 
take  leave.  Penrose  followed  my  example,  saying,  as  he 
lightly  touched  Miss  Haworth's  hand,  — 

"  Do  not  misunderstand  me  if  I  have  failed  to  respect 
your  delicacy  of  feeling.  I  assure  you  I  meant  to  express 
no  empty,  formal  compliment."  i 

"  The  case  has  been  greatly  magnified,  I  have  no  doubt," 
she  answered.  "  I  simply  obeyed  a  natural  impulse,  which, 
I  am  sure,  any  other  person  would  have  felt,  and  it  is  not 
agreeable  to  me  to  have  a  reputation  for  heroism  on  such 
cheap  terms." 

I  presume  my  face  expressed  my  wonder  at  these  words, 
for  she  smiled  with  eyes  still  dewy  from  the  tears  I  had 
called  forth  —  a  warm,  liquid,  speaking  smile,  which  I  an 
swered  with  a  tender  pressure  of  her  hand.  The  next 
moment,  frightened  at  my  own  boldness,  and  tingling  with 
rosy  thrills  of  passion,  I  turned  to  meet  Mr.  Floyd  at  the 
door. 

Penrose  greeted  him  with  a  cool,  off-hand  air  of  superi 
ority,  and  I  answered  his  amazed  stare  with  the  smallest 
and  stiffest  fragment  of  a  bow.  We. were  in  the  street  be 
fore  he  had  time  to  recover. 

We  turned  into  and  walked  down  Fourth  Avenue  side 
by  side.  I  made  some  remarks  about  the  night  and  the 
weather,  to  which  Penrose  did  not  reply.  His  head  was 
bent,  and  he  appeared  to  be  busy  with  his  own  thoughts. 
Presently,  however,  he  took  hold  of  my  arm  with  a  fierce 
grasp,  and  exclaimed,  — 

"  John,  did  you  mention  it  to  her  ?  And  did  she  allow 
you  to  speak  of  it  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  asked.  "  What  was  it  ?  You 
and  she  were  speaking  in  riddles.  I  know  nothing  more 
than  that  she  did  something  which  you  admire,  but  which 
she  does  not  wish  to  have  mentioned." 

"And  you  really  don't  know  ?    That  girl  is  a  trump,  John 


376  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

Godfrey.     She  saved  a  man's  life  at  the  risk  of  her  own,  a 
fortnight  ago." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Where  ?  How  ?  " 
"At  Lake  George.  They  were  there  on  their  return 
from  the  Northwest.  The  season  was  nearly  over,  you 
know,  and  there  were  not  many  persons  at  the  hotel,  but  I 
had  the  story  from  TVelford,  our  next-door  neighbor  in 
Chambers  Street,  who  was  one  of  them.  It  seems  that  she 
had  gone  off  alone,  strolling  along  the  shore,  and  as  the 
day  was  clear  and  hot,  had  taken  a  seat  somewhere  under 
a  tree,  near  the  water,  beside  a  little  point  of  rock.  One 
of  the  Irish  waiters  went  into  the  lake  for  a  bath,  and 
whether  he  got  beyond  his  depth  and  could  n't  swim,  or 
whether  the  coldness  of  the  water  gave  him  the  cramp,  I 
don't  know,  but  the  fact  is  he  went  down.  Up  he  came 
again,  splashing  and  strangling  ;  she  heard  the  noise, 
sprang  upon  the  rock,  and  saw  the  fellow  as  he  went  down 
the  second  time.  Another  girl  would  have  stood  and 
screeched,  but  she  walked  straight  into  the  lake  —  think 
of  it,  by  Jove  !  —  until  the  water  reached  her  chin.  She 
could  see  his  body  on  the  bottom,  and  perhaps  he,  too,  saw 
her  white  dress  near  him,  for  he  stretched  out  his  arm  to 
wards  her.  She  shut  her  eyes,  plunged  under  and  just  caught 
him  by  the  tip  of  a  finger.  Good  God,  if  she  had  lost  her 
balance  !  His  hand  closed  on  hers  with  a  death-grip.  She 
drew  him  into  shallower  water,  then,  by  main  force,  —  big 
and  heavy  as  he  was,  —  upon  the  sand,  threw  his  clothes 
over  his  body,  and  stuck  her  parasol  into  the  ground  to 
keep  the  sun  off  his  head.  There  was  a  scene  at  the  hotel 
when  she  walked  in,  drowned  and  dripping  from  head  to 
foot,  and  called  the  landlord  to  the  rescue.  The  man  was 
saved,  and  I  hear  there  was  no  end  to  his  gratitude.  The 
other  young  ladies,  Welford  says,  thought  it  very  romantic 
and  predicted  a  marriage,  until  they  found  it  was  an  Irish 
waiter,  when  they  turned  up  their  noses  and  said,  '  How 
could  she  do  such  a  thing  ?  ' ' 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  377 

Penrose  closed  his  story  with  a  profane  exclamation 
which  I  will  not  repeat.  The  noble,  heroic  girl !  I  was 
filled  with  pride  and  admiration  —  it  was  honor  but  to  love 
her,  it  would  be  bliss  unspeakable  to  win  her  ! 

"  It  was  gloriously  done  ! "  I  cried.  "  There  is  nobody 
like  her."  I  quite  forgot  that  I  was  betraying  myself. 

"  John,"  said  Penrose,  "  come  into  the  square.  You  and 
I  must  have  an  explanation.  You  love  Isabel  Haworth, 
and  so  do  I ! " 

"  Good  God,  Alexander  !     Are  you  serious  ?  " 

"  Serious  ? "  he  echoed,  with  a  savage  intensity  which 
silenced  me.  We  entered  the  eastern  gate  of  the  oval  en 
closure,  which,  at  that  hour,  was  almost  deserted.  Two*  or 
three  footsteps  only  crushed  the  broad  gravel-paths.  The 
leaves  were  falling,  at  intervals,  from  the  trees,  and  the 
water  gurgled  out  of  the  pipes  in  the  middle  of  the  basin. 
I  followed  him  to  the  central  circle,  where  he  stopped, 
turned,  and  faced  me.  His  eyes  shone  upon  me  with  a 
strong,  lambent  gleam,  out  of  the  shadows  of  the  night.  I 
was  chilled  and  bewildered  by  the  unexpected  disclosure 
of  our  rivalry,  and  nerved  myself  to  meet  his  coming  words, 
the  pin-port  of  which  I  began  to  forebode. 

"  John  Godfrey,"  he  said  at  last,  in  a  low  voice,  which, 
by  its  forced  steadiness,  expressed  the  very  agitation  it 
should  have  concealed,  —  "  John  Godfrey,  there  is  no  use 
in  trying  to  disguise  the  truth  from  each  other.  You  would 
soon  discover  that  I  love  Isabel  Haworth,  and  I  prefer  tell 
ing  you  now.  You  and  I  have  been  friends,  but  if  you  are 
as  much  in  earnest  as  I  take  you  to  be,  we  are  from  this 
time  forth  rivals,  —  perhaps  enemies." 

He  paused.  I  tried  to  reflect .  whether  this  hostile  re 
lation  —  for  so  his  words  presented  it  —  was  indeed  inev 
itable. 

"  Towards  another  man,"  he  continued,  "  I  should  not  be 
so  frank.  But  I  am  ready  to  show  you  my  hand,  because  I 
have  determined  to  win  the  game  in  spite  of  you.  I  have 


378  JOHN    GODFREY'S     FORTUNES. 

told  you  that  I  am  intensely  selfish,  and  what  my  nature 
demands  that  it  must  have.  You  are  in  my  way,  and  un 
less  you  prove  yourself  the  stronger,  I  shall  crush  you  down. 
I  don't  know  what  claims  you  make  to  the  possession  of 
this  girl,  —  but  it  is  not  necessary  to  measure  claims.  I 
admit  none  except  my  own.  When  Matilda  recommended 
her  to  me  as  an  eligible  match,  I  kept  away  from  her,  having 
no  mind  for  matches  de  convenance,  —  least  of  all.  of  Ma 
tilda's  making ;  but  little  by  little  I  learned  to  know  her. 
I  saw,  not  her  fortune,  but  a  rare  and  noble  woman,  —  such 
a  woman  as  I  have  been  waiting  for,  —  welcome  to  me  as 
Morning  to  Night.  She  is  my  Eos,  —  my  Aurora." 

The  stern  defiance  of  his  voice  melted  away,  and  he 
pronounced  the  last  words  with  a  tender,  tremulous  music, 
which  showed  to  me  how  powerfully  his  heart  was  moved 
by  the  thought  of  her.  But  was  she  not  all  this  to  me  — 
and  more  ?  Not  alone  my  future  fortune,  but  compensation 
for  a  disappointed  past  ?  Yes :  I  felt  it,  as  never  before, 
and  grew  desperate  with  the  knowledge,  that,  whatever  the 
issue  might  be,  at  least  one  of  us  was  destined  to  be  un 
happy  forever. 

"  You  say  nothing,"  he  said,  at  last.  "  I  repeat  to  you 
I  shall  win  her.  Will  you  relinquish  the  field  ?  or  will  you 
follow  a  vain  hope,  and  make  us  enemies  ?  I  have  given 
you  fair  warning,  and  want  your  decision." 

"  You  shall  have  it  at  once,  Alexander,"  I  replied.  "  I 
will  be  equally  frank.  Like  you,  I  admit  no  claims  except 
my  own.  This  is  a  matter  in  which  your  fortune,  your 
superior  advantages  of  person  and  social  culture  give  you 
no  additional  right.  It  takes  more  than  your  own  will  to 
achieve  success :  you  seem  to  leave  her  out  of  the  account. 
So  long  as  she  has  not  spoken  against  me,  I  also  may  hope. 
I  will  not  relinquish  the  field.  You  say  I  love  her,  and 
you  ask  me  to  act  as  if  my  love  were  a  farce  !  Rivals  we 
must  be :  it  cannot  be  helped ;  but  I  will  try  not  to  become 
your  enemy." 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  379 

He  laughed.  "  I  warn  you,"  he  said,  "  not  to  depend  on 
your  ideal  of  human  generosity  and,  magnanimity.  If  you 
are  fortunate,  —  I  simply  accept  your  own  supposition,  for 
the  moment,  —  you  would  not  feel  hostility  towards  me. 
Oh,  no !  the  fortunate  can  easily  be  generous.  But  don't 
imagine  that  I  should  play  Pythias  to  your  Damon  in  that 
case,  or  that  you  will  be  anymore  inclined  to  do  it  for  me 
when  the  case  is  reversed.  No  ;  let  us  face  the  truth.  One 
of  us  will  never  forgive  the  other." 

"  It  may  be  as  you  say,"  I  answered,  sadly.  "  Would  to 
God  it  had  not  happened  so  ! " 

"  Cousin  John,"  cried  Penrose,  suddenly,  seizing  me  by 
the  hand,  "  I  know  the  world  better  than  you  do.  I  know 
that  love,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  can  be  kindled  and  made 
to  burn  by  the  breath  of  the  stronger  nature  that  craves  it. 
I  am  cool-headed,  and  know  how  to  play  my  powers,  — 
yes,  my  passions,  if  need  be.  You  say  I  leave  her  out  of 
the  account,  but  it  is  only  because  I  believe  her  affections 
to  be  free.  The  question  is,  which  of  us  shall  first  catch 
and  hold  them  ?  I  shall  succeed,  because  I  most  need  to 
be  successful.  Think  what  a  cold,  isolated  existence  is 
mine,  —  how  few  human  beings  I  can  even  approach,  — 
and  of  those  few  what  a  miracle  that  one  forces  me  to  love 
her !  See,  then,  how  all  the  brightness  of  my  life  hangs 
on  this  chance.  Give  up  the  rivalry,  John  ;  it  is  not  life 
or  death  with  you  ;  you  have  friends ;  you  will  have  fame  ; 
yours  is  a  nature  to  form  new  ties  easily  ;  you  will  find  sun 
shine  somewhere  else  without  trying  to  rob  me  of  mine  !  " 

My  feelings  were  profoundly  touched  by  his  appeal,  and 
possibly  some  romantic  idea  of  generosity  may  have  weak 
ened  my  resolution  for  a  moment.  My  heart,  however,  re 
asserted  its  right,  reminding  me  that  love  cancels  all  duties 
except  its  own.  Possibly  —  and  the  thought  stung  me  with 
a  sharp  sense  of  joy  —  I  was  speaking  for  her  life  as  well 
as  mine.  But,  whether  or  not,  I  dared  not  yield  merely 
because  his  trumpet  sounded  a  boast  of  triumph ;  I  must 
stand  and  meet  the  onset. 


380  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  Alexander,'r  I  said,  "  ask  me  anything  but  this.  "When 
Isabel  Haworth  tells  me  with  her  own  lips  that  she  cannot 
love  me,  I  will  stand  back  and  pray  God  to  turn  her  heart 
to  you.  But,  loving  her  as  I  do,  that  love,  uncertain  as  is 
its  fortune,  binds  me  to  sacred  allegiance.  While  it  lasts, 
I  dare  not  and  will  not  acknowledge  any  other  law.  If  it 
meets  its  counterpart  in  her,  I  will  not  fear  the  powers  you 
may  bring  to  move  her,  —  she  is  mine,  though  all  the  world 
were  in  league  with  you.  I  shall  employ  no  arts ;  I  shall 
take  no  unfair  advantage  ;  but  if  God  has  meant  her  for 
me,  I  shall  accept  the  blessing  when  He  chooses' to  place 
it  in  my  hands." 

Penrose  stood  silent,  with  folded  arms.  It  was  some 
time  before  he  spoke,  and  when  he  did  so,  it  was  with  a 
voice  singularly  changed  and  subdued.  "  I  might  have 
known  it  would  end  so,"  he  said  ;  "  there  is  another  strength 
which  is  as  stubborn  as  mine.  I  have  more  reason  to  fear 
you  than  I  supposed.  It  is  to  be  a  fight,  then  ;  better,  per 
haps,  with  you  than  with  another.  Hereafter  we  shall  meet 
with  lances  in  rest  and  visors  down.  Give  me  your  hand, 
John,  —  it  may  be  we  shall  never  shake  hands  again." 

Out  of  the  night  flashed  a  picture  of  the  wild  dell  in 
Honeybrook,  and  the  dark-eyed  boy,  first  stretching  out  a 
cousin's  hand  to  me  from  his  seat  on  the  mossy  log.  Was 
the  picture  also  in  his  mind  that  our  hands  clung  to  each 
other  so  closely  and  so  long?  I  could  have  sobbed  for 
very  grief  and  tenderness,  if  my  heart  had  not  been  held 
by  a  passion  too  powerful  for  tears. 

We  walked  side  by  side  down  Broadway.  Neither  spoke 
a  word  until  we  parted  with  a  quiet  "  Good-night ! "  at  the 
corner  of  Bleecker  Street.  There  was  but  one  contingency 
which  might  bring  us  together  again  as  we  were  of  old,  — 
disappointment  to  both. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.         381 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

WHICH   BRINGS    A    THUNDERBOLT. 

DURING  my  interview  with  Penrose,  I  was  supported  by 
the  strength  of  an  excitement  which  stimulated  all  my 
powers  of  mind  and  heart.  The  reaction  followed,  and 
showed  me  how  desperate  were  my  chances.  He  was  in 
every  respect  —  save  the  single  quality  of  fidelity  —  my 
superior  ;  and  unless  she  should  discover  that  hidden  virtue 
in  me,  and  accept  it  as  outweighing  culture,  brilliancy, 
and  manly  energy,  there  was  every  probability  that  she 
would  prefer  my  cousin,  if  called  upon  to  choose  between 
us.  The  first  impression  which  he  produced  upon  her  did 
not  seem  to  be  favorable,  but  I  drew  little  comfort  there 
from.  His  face  was  "  not  easily  read,"  she  had  said,  which 
only  indicated  that  she  had  not  yet  read  it.  Certain  ob 
vious  characteristics  may  clash,  even  while  the  two  natures 
are  drawing  nearer  and  nearer  in  the  mystic,  eternal  har 
mony  of  love.  On  the  other  hand,  I  had  flattered  my 
hopes  from  the  discovery  of  points  of  sympathy,  little 
tokens  of  mutual  attraction ;  but  how  deep  did  those  signs 
reach  ?  Had  I  any  right  to  assume  that  they  expressed 
more  on  her  side  than  that  esthetic  satisfaction  which 
earnest  minds  derive  from  contact?  Possessing  literary 
tastes,  she  might  feel  some  interest  in  me  as  a  young  author. 
It  was  all  dark  and  doubtful,  and  I  shrank  from  making 
the  only  venture  which  would  bring  certainty. 

I  had  congratulated  myself  on  the  force  of  character, 
which,  I  fancied,  had  fully  developed  itself  out  of  the  cir 
cumstances  of  my  life.  No  doubt  I  had  made  a  great  stride 


382  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

forwards, — no  doubt  I  was  rapidly  becoming  independent 
and  self-reliant,  —  but  the  transformation  was  far  from 
being  complete.  This  new  uncertainty  set  me  adrift.  My 
will  seemed  as  yet  but  the  foundation  of  a  pier,  not  suffi 
ciently  raised  above  the  shifting  tides  of  my  feelings  to 
support  the  firm  arch  of  fortune.  I  envied  Penrose  the 
possession  of  his  more  imperious,  determined  quality.  More 
over,  the  gulf  into  which  I  had  looked  was  not  yet  sealed  ; 
there  were  hollow  echoes  under  my  thoughts,  —  incredulous 
whispers  mocked  the  voice  of  my  hope,  —  and  at  times  a 
dark,  inexorable  Necessity  usurped  the  government  of 
Life. 

Through  all  these  fluctuations,  my  love  remained  warm 
and  unwavering.  I  clung  to  it,  and  order  gradually  returned 
out  of  the  apparent  chaos.  It  contained  the  promise  of 
Faith,  of  reconciliation  with  the  perverted  order  of  the 
world.  ' 

I  now  recalled,  with  a  sense  of  shame,  my  neglect  of 
Jane  Berry  since  the  night  of  her  rescue,  and  made  it  a 
point  to  visit  Gooseberry  Alley  next  morning,  before  going 
down  town.  I  found  her  in  Mary  Maloney's  kitchen,  as 
sisting  the  latter  in  starching  her  linen.  Her  hair  was 
smoothly  and  neatly  arranged,  the  bright  color  had  come 
back  to  her  face,  and  she  was,  in  truth,  a  very  pretty,  at 
tractive  girl.  A  joyous  light  sparkled  in  her  eyes  when 
she  first, looked  up,  on  my  entrance,  but  her  lids  then  fell 
and  a  deep  blush  mantled  her  cheeks. 

"  And  it 's  a  long  time  ye  take,  before  you  show  y'rself, 
Mr.  Godfrey,"  exclaimed  Mary  Maloney.  "  Here 's  Miss 
Jenny  was  beginnin'  to  think  she  'd  niver  see  ye  agin." 

"  You  might  have  told  her  better,  Mary,"  I  said.  "  I 
have  been  remiss,  I  know,  Miss  Berry,  but  I  wanted  to  dis 
cover  some  chance  of  employment  for  you  before  calling. 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I  have  found  nothing  yet." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  sir,"  she  answered,  "  and  I  don't  wish 
to  trouble  you  more  than  can  be  helped.  Mary  has  been 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  "83 

making  inquiries,  and  she  expects  to  get  some  work  for  me 
very  soon." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mary ;  "  she  's  frettin'  herself,  for  fear  that 
she  's  a  burden  on  me  ;  but,  indade,  she  ates  no  more  than 
a  bird,  and  it  is  n't  me  that 's  hard  put  to  it  to  live,  since 
Hugh  aims  his  six  dollars  a  wake.  He  pays  the  rint,  ivery 
bit  of  it,  and  keeps  hisself  in  clothes,  and  I  don't  begrudge 
the  lad  a  shillin'  or  so  o'  spendin'-money,  as  well  as  his 
aiquals.  I  have  my  health,  God  be  praised,  and  indade  the 
company  she  's  to  me  seems  to  give  me  a  power  o'  sperrit. 
But  there  's  them  that  don't  like  to  be  beholden  to  others, 
and  I  can't  say  as  I  blame  'em." 

"  Oh,  it  is  n't  that,  Mary,"  here  Jane  Berry  interposed ; 
"  I  'm  sure  you  have  n't  allowed  me  to  feel  that  I  was  a 
burden,  but  I  am  really  able  to  earn  my  own  living,  and 
something  more,  I  hope.  It 's  what  I  want  to  do,  and  I 
can't  feel  exactly  satisfied  until  I  'm  in  the  way  of  it." 

I  felt  ashamed  of  my  neglect,  and  resolved  to  atone  for 
it  as  soon  as  might  be.  I  assured  Jane  Berry  that  I  should 
take  immediate  steps  to  secure  her  steady  employment. 
But  I  could  not  say  to  her  all  that  I  desired  ;  Mary  Malo- 
ney  was  in  the  way.  I  therefore  adopted  the  transparent 
expedient  of  taking  leave,  going  part  way  down  the  stairs, 
and  then  returning  suddenly  to  the  door,  as  if  some  mes 
sage  had  been  forgotten. 

She  came  hurriedly,  at  my  call.  I  remained  standing  on 
the  upper  step,  obliging  her  to  cross  the  landing,  the  breadth 
of  which  and  the  intervening  room  removed  us  almost  be 
yond  earshot  of  the  Irishwoman. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you,"  I  said,  in  a  low  voice,  and  some 
what  embarrassed  how  to  begin,  "  whether  she  knows  any 
thing." 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  answered.  "  It  seems  to  me  that 
everybody  must  mistrust  me  ;  —  but  I  've  been  afraid  to  tell 
her." 

"  Say  nothing,  then,  for  the  present.     But  you  wanted  to 


384  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

give  me  your  history,  and  it  must  be  told  somewhere  else 
than  here.  Could  you  go  up  into  Washington  Square,  some 
evening,  and  meet  me  ?  You  can  say  you  need  a  walk  and 
fresh  air,  or  you  can  make  an  errand  of  some  kind." 

She  appeared  to  hesitate,  and  I  added,  "  The  sooner  I 
know  more  about  you,  the  better  I  may  be  able  to  assist 
you." 

"  I  will  come,  then,"  she  faltered,  "  but  please  let  it  be 
some  dark  evening,  when  I  would  run  no  risk  of  meeting 
her,  —  that  woman.  You  've  saved  me  once,  and  you  would 
n't  want  me  to  run  into  danger  again,  sir  ?  " 

"  God  forbid  !     Choose  your  own  time." 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days,  with  the  aid  of  Mary  Malo- 
ney,  I  procured  an  engagement  for  plain  needle-work,  not 
very  well  paid,  it  was  true,  but  still  a  beginning  which 
would  serve  to  allay  her  scruples  and  give  her  encourage 
ment  to  continue  the  work  of  self-redemption.  The  estab 
lishment  was  in  the  upper  part  of  the  Bowery,  and  the  pro 
prietors  required  her  to  work  on  the  spot,  in  company  with 
a  score  of  other  needle-women,  —  an  arrangement  which  she 
was  nervously  loath  to  accept,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it. 

On  the  following  Saturday  night  I  met  Miss  Haworth, 
quite  unexpectedly,  at  a  literary  soiree.  I  was  listening  to 
a  conversation  between  a  noted  author  and  an  artist  whose 
allegorical  pictures  were  much  admired  in  certain  quarters. 
The  latter  asserted  that  a  man  must  himself  first  feel  what 
ever  he  seeks  to  express,  —  must  believe  before  he  can  rep 
resent  ;  in  other  words,  that  the  painter  must  be  a  devout 
Christian  before  he  can  paint  a  Holy  Family,  or  the  poet  a 
Catholic  before  he  can  write  a  good  hymn  to  the  Virgin. 
The  author  adduced  Shakspeare  as  an  evidence  of  the  ob 
jective  power  of  genius,  which  can  project  itself  into  the 
very  heart  of  a  great  range  of  characters  and  recreate  them 
for  its  purposes.  I  was  greatly  interested  in  the  discussion, 
and  naturally  inclined  to  the  artist's  views.  Not  recognizing 
my  own  limited  powers,  my  immaturity  of  mind  and  habit 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  385 

of  measuring  other  men  by  my  individual  standard,  I  was 
glad  to  find  a  fact,  true  of  myself,  asserted  as  a  general  law. 
I  expressed,  very  warmly,  my  belief  that  hypocrisy  —  as  I 
called  it  —  was  impossible  in  Art ;  only  that  which  a  man 
really  was,  could  he  successfully  express  in  words,  on  can 
vas,  or  in  marble. 

Suddenly  I  turned  my  head  with  the  vague  impression 
that  somebody  was  listening  to  me,  and  encountered  Miss 
Haworth's  eyes.  She  was  one  of  a  lively  group  who  were 
commenting  on  a  proof-engraving  of  one  of  Kaulbach's 
cartoons,  just  imported  from  Europe,  and  appeared  to  have 
only  turned  aside  her  head  for  a  moment.  She  acknowl 
edged  my  bow,  but  her  eyes  fell,  and  when  I  sought  her,  as 
soon  as  I  could  escape  from  the  discussion,  her  usual  ease 
and  grace  of  manner  seemed  to  have  been  disturbed.  The 
soft,  sweet  eyes  rather  shunned  than  sought  mine  while  she 
spoke,  and  her  words  were  so  mechanical  as  to  denote  ab 
straction  of  mind.  I  feared,  almost,  that  Penrose  had 
hinted  at  my  passion,  but  the  next  moment  acquitted  him 
of  this  breach  of  faith,  and  began  to  wonder  whether  she 
did  not  suspect  it.  If  so,  I  felt  that  I  had  strong  reason  to 
hope.  The  serenity  of  her  nature  was  evidently  troubled, 
yet  she  did  not  avoid  or  repel  me.  On  the  contrary,  I  knew 
that  her  glances  followed  me.  Without  daring  to  watch 
her,  I  walked  in  the  light  and  warmth  of  her  eyes,  in  an 
intoxication  of  the  heart  which  continually  whispered  to  it 
self,  "  Your  time  has  come,  —  you  shall  be  blessed  at  last ! " 

Now  I  might  venture  to  declare  my  love ;  for,  even  if  its 
growth  in  me  should  encounter  only  its  first  timid  develop 
ment  in  her,  I  should  still  be  sure  of  the  end.  But  it  re 
quired  more  resolution  than  I  had  supposed  to  take  the 
important  step.  Perhaps  Penrose  had  anticipated  me,  and 
—  though  unsuccessful,  or  rather,  because  of  it  —  had  un 
tuned  her  heart  for  a  time.  Should  I  not  wait  for  an  inti 
macy  which  might  foreshadow  its  object?  Then  the  image 
of  Amanda  -Bratton  perversely  returned  to  annoy  me. 
25 


386  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Some  devilish  attribute  of  memory  held  up,  face  to  face, 
and  forced  me  to  see  again  my  boyish  raptures,  my  stolen 
embraces,  and  the  mockery  of  my  final  interview.  It  was 
profanation  to  Isabel  Haworth  to  couple  her  image  with 
that  other,  but  the  latter  had  left  its  impress  on  my  life, 
and  its  cold,  hard  features  glimmered  through  the  warm 
tints  of  the  new  picture. 

I  remember  that  I  walked  the  streets  much  at  this  time, 
and  I  think  it  was  in  one  of  those  aimless  walks  that  I  met 
Jane  Berry  returning  from  her  day's  labor.  Her  face  was 
covered  by  a  thick  veil,  and  I  did  not  recognize  her,  but 
she  stopped  and  said,  hesitatingly,  "  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  you,  Jane  ;  are  you  going  home  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  am  ready  to  keep  my  promise,  if  you  wish  it, 
sir.  It 's  on  my  mind  and  troubles  me,  and  I  may  as  well 
begin  first  as  last." 

"  Very  well,"  said  I ;  "  here  is  Fourth  Street.  We  shall 
find  the  square  empty  at  this  hour,  and  it 's  your  nearest 
way  home." 

It  was  a  cloudy  evening  and  the  dusk  was  rapidly  deep 
ening  into  night.  The  gas  already  flared  in  the  Broadway 
shops,  and  the  lamplighters  were  going  their  rounds  from 
one  street-corner  to  another.  There  were  few  persons  in 
Fourth  Street,  and  as  I  walked  down  it,  beside  Jane  Berry, 
I  was  conscious  that  my  interest  in  her  had  somewhat  faded. 
Her  rescue  (if  it  might  be  called  so)  was  a  thing  of  the 
past,  and  the  romantic  victim  had  become  a  commonplace 
sempstress,  —  to  be  looked  after,  of  course,  and  restored  to 
her  family  as  soon  as  practicable  ;  but  I  felt  that  I  should 
be  relieved  of  an  embarrassing  responsibility  when  this 
duty  had  been  discharged. 

Thus  occupied  with  my  thoughts,  we  reached  the  south 
ern  gate  of  the  square,  and  I  stopped.  The  girl  looked  at 
me  as  if  expecting  me  to  speak.  She  wanted  courage  to 
commence,  and  I  therefore  asked,  — 

"  Are  you  willing  to  tell  me  where  your  home  is  ?  " 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  387 

"  In  Hackettstown,  sir,"  she  answered.  "  Though  we 
used  to  live  in  Belvidere.  My  father  and  brother  are  rafts 
men.  I  came  to  Hackettstown  to  learn  the  trade  from  an 
aunt  of  mine  —  my  father's  sister  —  who  lives  there,  and 
does  a  good  business.  In  the  summer  she  works  a  good 
deal  for  the  quality  at  Schooley's  Mountain,  and  that 's  how 
I  became  acquainted  with  —  with  him.  Oh,  pray,  sir,  don't 
ask  me  to  tell  you  his  name  ! " 

"  No,  Jane,"  I  said,  "  I  don't  care  to  hear  it.  It  is  enough 
to  know  what  he  is." 

"  He  was  staying  at  the  hotel,  too,"  she  continued.  "  Some 
times  I  went  up  in  the  stage,  on  errands  for  my  aunt,  and 
walked  back  down  the  mountain.  He  used  to  meet  me 
and  keep  me  company.  I  was  n't  taken  with  him  at  first, 
he  spoke  so  bold  and  would  stare  me  out  of  countenance. 
Then  he  changed,  and  seemed  to  be  so  humble,  and  talked 
in  a  low  voice,  and  put  me  above  all  the  quality  at  the  ho 
tel,  and  said  he  loved  me  truly  and  would  make  a  lady  of 
me.  I  began  to  like  his  talk,  then  :  I  was  foolish,  and  be 
lieved  whatever  he  said.  Nobody  before  ever  praised  me 
so,  —  not  even  —  oh,  sir !  that  was  the  worst  thing  I  did  ! 
There  was  another  that  loved  me,  I  am  sure  of  it,  and  — 
and  I  am  afraid  now  that  I  love  him  !  What  will  become 
of  me?" 

She  burst  into  a  fit  of  passionate  weeping.  I  saw  by  the 
lamp  that  her  face  was  pale  and  her  limbs  trembling,  and 
feared  that  her  agitation  might  overcome  her.  I  put  one 
arm  around  her  waist  to  support  her,  bent  down  and  tried 
to  cheer  her  with  soothing  words.  Fortunately  there  was 
no  one  near,  —  only  a  carriage  dashed  along,  and  the  coach 
man  pulled  up,  as  if  about  to  stop  at  the  opposite  corner. 
I  involuntarily  drew  her  away  from  under  the  lamp,  and 
into  the  shade  of  the  trees  beyond. 

"  Tell  me  no  more,"  I  said,  "  if  it  pains  you  to  do  so." 

"  I  've  told  you  the  worst  now.  I  don't  understand  it  at 
all.  I  can  see  the  difference  between  the  two,  in  thinking 


388  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

over  what 's  happened,  but  then  I  was  charmed,  as  I  have 
heard  say  that  a  bird  is  charmed  by  a  rattlesnake.  The 
other  one  would  n't  praise  me,  —  I  thought  him  readier  to 
scold,  but  oh  !  he  meant  it  for  my  good.  It  was  pleasant 
to  be  told  that  I  was  handsome,  —  that  I  had  good  manners, 
and  that  I  should  be  a  rich  man's  wife,  and  ride  in  my  own 
carriage  and  live  in  ease  all  my  life.  Then,  sir,  there  was 
to  be  a  farm  bought  for  father,  —  it  was  only  to  say  yes, 
and  everything  should  be  just  as  I  wanted,  as  fine  as  a  fairy 
tale.  And  I  believed  it  all !  Only  the  going  away  so  se 
cretly  troubled  me,  but  he  said  we  would  be  back  in  two  or 
three  days,  and  then  what  a  surprise  !  •  The  two  other  girls 
would  be  ready  to  tear  my  eyes  out,  for  spite  at  my  great 
fortune ;  —  oh,  and  I  dare  n't  look  them  in  the  face  now. 
So  we  went  away  in  the  train,  and  I  thought  it  was  his  house 
he  took  me  to  "  — 

She  stopped  here,  unable  to  say  more.  It  was  needless : 
I  could  guess  the  rest.  I  saw  the  vanity  and  shallowness 
of  the  girl's  nature,  but  a  fearful  retribution  had  followed 
her  false  step,  and  it  was  not  for  me  to  condemn  her  in  her 
shame.  But  I  stretched  forth  my  arm  and  crooked  my 
fingers,  thirsting  to  close  them  around  the  throat  of  the 
villain  who  had  deceived  her. 

"  You  do  not  wish  to  return,  then  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Would 
not  your  aunt  receive  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  thinking  it  all  over.  If  I  could  say  that  I 
have  been  at  work,  and  have  a  little  money  to  show  for  it, 
and  maybe  a  recommendation  from  the  people  I  work  for, 
you  see,  sir,  it  would  n't  look  quite  so  bad.  Only  I  might 
have  to  lie.  That  would  be  dreadful ;  but  I  think  it  would 
be  more  dreadful  for  me  to  tell  the  truth.  Do  you  think, 
sir,  that  God  would  forgive  me  for  the  lie  ?  " 

Her  simple  question  brought  confusion  upon  my  ethics. 

I  was  really  unable  to  answer  it.     On  the  one  hand,  the 

unforgiving  verdict  of  the  world,  —  a  life  hopelessly  dis- 

1  graced  by  the  confession  of  the  truth  ;  on  the  other,  a  posi- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  389 

tive  sin,  offering  the  means  of  atoning  for  sin  and  repairing 
a  ruined  life ! 

After  a  long  pause  I  said,  "  God  must  answer  that  ques 
tion  for  you.  Go  to  Him  and  wait  patiently  until  His  will 
shall  be  manifest.  But  perhaps  you  are  right  in  not  wish 
ing  to  return  at  once.  I  hoped  you  might  have  enabled 
me  to  assist  you,  but  it  seems  best,  now,  that  you  should 
depend  on  yourself,  unless  —  you  spoke  of  another  "  — 

"  Don't  mention  him  ! "  she  cried.  "  I  must  try  not  to 
think  of  him  any  more.  He  's  as  proud  as  the  richest,  and 
would  trample  me  into  the  dust  at  his  feet." 

I  saw  that  any  further  allusion  to  this  subject  would  be 
inflicting  useless  pain,  and  proposed  that  she  should  return 
to  her  lodgings.  On  the  way  I  encouraged  her  with  prom 
ises  of  procuring  better  employment.  I  already  began  to 
plan  what  might  be  done,  if  Isabel  Haworth  should  give 
herself  to  me,  —  I  would  interest  her  in  Jane  Berry's  fate, 
and  that  once  accomplished,  all  the  rest  would  be  easy. 
It  was  a  case,  moreover,  for  a  woman's  delicate  hand  to 
conduct,  rather  than  a  young  man  like  myself. 

I  was  fearful  lest  Mary  Maloney  might  notice  the  traces 
of  the  girl's  agitation,  and  therefore  exerted  myself  to  turn 
the  conversation  into  a  cheerful  channel.  On  reaching 
Gooseberry  Alley  I  went  with  her  into  the  tenement-house, 
partly  to  divert  the  Irishwoman's  attention.  Feeny,  smok 
ing  his  pipe  at  the  front-window,  looked  down  and  grinned, 
as  we  waited  on  the  steps  for  the  opening  of  the  door. 

Up-stairs,  in  the  little  back-kitchen,  the  table  was  spread 
for  supper,  and  Hugh,  with  his  shirt-sleeves  rolled  up  as 
usual,  was  attending  to  the  frying  of  some  bacon.  The  lid 
of  the  tea-kettle  danced  an  irregular  jig  to.  a  tune  whistled 
by  the  steam,  and  the  aspect  of  the  room  was  as  cheery  as 
its  atmosphere  was  appetizing.  Mary  Maloney  dusted  the 
stool  and  handed  it  to  me,  saying,  — 

"  Sure,  now,  and  would  you  take  a  cup  o'  tay  wi'  the 
likes  of  us  ?  " 


f 

390  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

I  assented  very  willingly,  and  drank  the  cheap  tea,  out 
of  a  grotesque  cup  of  "  rale  chancy,  brought  from  th'  old 
country,"  with  a  relish.  Hugh,  since  his  promotion  to 
wages  and  his  enrolment  as  a  fireman,  had  acquired  quite 
a  manly  air,  but  he  struck  me  as  being  more  taciturn  than 
ever.  The  red  curls  were  clipped  close  to  his  hard,  round 
head,  and  his  freckled  chin  was  beginning  to  look  stubby. 
When  he  spoke  his  voice  betrayed  the  most  comical  mixt 
ure  of  the  Irish  brogue  and  the  Bowery  drawl.  I  caught 
him  several  times  looking  at  me  with  a  singular,  questioning 
expression  which  puzzled  me.  The  idea  came  into  my 
head,  without  any  discoverable  reason,  that  he  disliked  me. 
Nevertheless,  when  his  mother  commanded  him  to  light  me 
to  the  street,  he  obeyed  with  alacrity,  going  in  advance, 
and  shading  the  dip  with  his  big  hand,  to  throw  the  most 
of  its  rays  on  the  rickety  steps. 

I  had  not  seen  Mrs.  Deering  since  my  first  visit  after  her 
return  to  the  city.  She  was  "  indisposed,"  and  her  husband, 
whom  I  encountered  in  Broadway,  informed  me  that  Fashion 
prohibited  her  from  appearing  in  society  for  three  or  four 
months.  It  was  therefore  useless  to  count  on  the  chances 
of  meeting  Miss  Haworth  at  her  residence,  and  there  was 
no  certain  way  left  to  me  but  to  repeat  my  call  in  Gra- 
mercy  Park.  I  had  now  determined  on  the  final  venture, 
and  only  sought  a  lucky  occasion.  Twice  or  thrice  I  scouted 
around  the  house  before  finding  appearances  propitious ; 
once  there  was  a  carriage  in  waiting,  and  another  time  I 
distinctly  recognized  the  shadow  of  Mr.  Floyd  crossing  the 
window-blinds.  It  was  rather  singular,  I  thought,  that  I 
did  not  happen  to  meet  Penrose. 

At  last,  it  seemed  that  I  had  hit  upon  the  right  moment. 
The  house  was  still,  and  the  servant  informed  me  that  Miss 
Haworth  was  at  home.  I  gave  my  name  and  entered  the 
parlor  to  await  her  coming.  I  was  in  a  state  of  fever ; 
my  cheeks  burned,  my  throat  was  parched,  and  my  heart 
throbbed  so  as  almost  to  take  away  my  breath.  I  strove 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  391 

to  collect  my  thoughts  and  arrange  my  approaches  to  the 
important  question,  but  the  endeavor  was  quite  useless; 
not  only  Amanda,  but  Penrose,  Floyd,  and  Miss  Levi,  sent 
their  wraiths  to  perplex  me.  The  cold  gray  eyes  of  one 
woman,  the  powerful  Oriental  orbs  of  the  other,  were  upon 
me,  while  each  of  the  male  rivals  stretched  out  a  hand  to 
pull  me  back.  What  was  I  —  an  unknown  country  youth, 
hardly  more  than  an  adventurer  as  yet  —  to  overleap,  with 
easy  triumph,  all  the  influences  banded  against  me  ? 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  coming  footstep.  Swallowing 
down,  by  a  mighty  effort,  a  part  of  my  agitation,  I  leaned 
on  the  back  of  a  fauteuil,  and  looked  at  the  reflected  door 
in  a  large  mirror  between  the  windows.  It  opened  swiftly, 
but  the  figure  mirrored  the  next  moment  was  not  that  of 
Miss  Haworth.  It  was  a  servant-girl  who  was  quick  enough 
to  deliver  her  errand. 

"  Miss  Haworth  says  she  's  not  able  to  see  you  this  even 
ing,  sir,"  she  said  ;  "  and  here  's  a  note  she 's  sent  down." 

I  took  it,  —  a  folded  slip  of  paper,  without  any  address, 
but  sealed  at  one  corner. 

"  It  is  for  me  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes  —  sir !  "  the  girl  replied,  very  emphatically. 

I  opened  it ;  there  were  only  two  lines,  — 

"  Miss  Haworth  informs  Mr.  Godfrey  that  her  acquaint 
ance  with  him  has  ceased." 

The  words  wer,e  so  unexpected  —  so  astounding  —  that 
I  could  not  at  once  comprehend  their  meaning.  I  felt 
marvellously  calm,  but  I  must  have  turned  very  pale,  for 
I  noticed  that  the  girl  watched  me  with  a  frightened  air. 
My  first  impression  was  that  the  note  was  a  forgery. 

"  Who  gave  you  this  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  She  did,  sir.     I  waited  while  she  wrote  it." 

"  Is  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd  in  the  house  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  he  dined  out  to-day,  and  has  n't  come  back 
yet." 

There  was  nothing  more  to  be  said.     I  crushed  the 


392         JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

slip  of  paper  in  my  fingers,  mechanically  thrust  it  into 
my  vest-pocket,  and  walked  out  of  the  house.  I  walked 
on  and  on,  paying  no  heed  to  my  feet,  —  neither  thinking 
nor  feeling,  hardly  aware  of  who  I  was.  My  nature  was 
in  the  benumbed,  semi-unconscious  state  which  follows  a 
stroke  of  lightning.  There  was  even  a  vague,  feeble  effort 
at  introversion,  during  which  I  whispered  to  myself,  au 
dibly,  —  "  It  don't  seem  to  make  much  difference." 

A  lumber-yard  arrested  my  progress.  I  looked  around, 
and  found  myself  in  a  dark,  quiet  region  of  the  city,  un 
known  to  me.  Over  the  piles  of  boards,  I  could  see  the 
masts  of  sloops.  I  had  followed  Twentieth  Street,  it  ap 
peared,  across  to  the  North  River.  I  now  turned  down 
Eleventh  Avenue,  and  walked  until  I  came  to  a  pier.  The 
dark  water  which  I  heard,  surging  in  from  pile  to  pile,  with 
a  whishing  thud  at  each,  called  me  with  an  irresistible  voice. 
I  was  not  conscious  of  any  impulse  to  plunge  in  and  fathom 
the  wearisome  mystery  of  life  ;  but  if  I  had  accidentally 
walked  off  the  pier  in  the  darkness,  I  would  scarcely  have 
taken  the  trouble  to  cry  for  help. 

The  pier- watchman  confronted  me  with  a  rough,  —  "  What 
do  you  want  here  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  I  said. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Nobody." 

"  Then  take  yourself  off,  Mr.  Nobody,  or  I  '11  make  a 
Somebody  of  you." 

I  obeyed  him. 


JOHN    GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  393 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

IN    WHICH   I    BEGIN    TO    GO    DOWNWARDS. 

IT  struck  nine  o'clock  when  I  reached  my  lodgings.  I 
was  half-way  up  the  first  flight  of  steps  when  I  suddenly 
asked  myself  the  question,  "  What  am  I  going  to  do  ?  "  My 
duties  called  me  to  the  newspaper-office,  but  I  felt  that  I 
was  fit  neither  for  labor,  sleep,  nor  solitude.  My  only  con 
scious  desire  was  oblivion  of  the  Present,  —  escape  from 
myself.  After  a  moment's  reflection  I  turned,  descended 
the  stairs,  went  out  of  the  house,  and  made  my  way  straight 
to  Crosby  Street. 

Miles  welcomed  me  with,  "  Glad  to  see  you,  sir,  —  most 
of  the  gents  is  in,"  —  and,  as  he  spoke,  the  Avenger's 
reporter  issued  from  the  Cave. 

"  You  're  just  in  time,  Godfrey,"  said  the  latter ;  "  they  're 
in  the  humor  for  making  a  night  of  it.  I  wish  I  could  stay, 
but  the  Election  plays  the  deuce  with  one's  pleasures.  No 
less  than  three  meetings  to-night:  I  must  down  to  the 
office,  and  out  again." 

"  Then,"  I  observed,  "  you  can  do  me  a  favor.  I  must 
write  a  line  to  Severn.  Will  you  drop  it  in  the  business 
office,  to  be  sent  up  to  him?" 

I  got  a  scrap  of  paper  from  Miles,  scribbled  a  few  hasty 
words  saying  that  I  was  ill  and  unable  to  attend  to  my 
work,  inclosed  it  in  a  brown  envelope  and  gave  it  to  the 
reporter.  Having  thus  shirked  my  duties,  I  entered  the 
Cave. 

The  usual  company  was  assembled,  with  the  exception 
of  Brandagee,  who,  however,  had  promised  to  be  present. 


394  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

The  plan  of  the  City  Oracle  had  been  revived,  I  was 
informed,  and  this  time  there  would  be  no  mistake. 
There  were  two  additions  to  the  company,  both  of  them 
smart,  comic  writers,  whose  debiit  in  the  Sunday  papers 
had  been  immensely  successful,  while  "  the  millstone,"  as 
Brandagee  was  accustomed  to  call  Mr.  Ponder,  had  been 
fortunately  removed.  He  had  found  a  congenial  place,  as 
the  writer  of  moral  essays  for  a  religious  weekly,  and  came 
no  more  to  the  Ichneumon. 

"  I  met  him  yesterday  at  the  corner  of  the  Bible  House," 
said  Smithers,  "  and  I  believe  the  fellow  would  have  cut 
my  acquaintance  if  he  had  dared.  He  was  so  pompously 
proper  and  pious  that  I  said,  '  Have  you  a  tract  to  spare  ? ' 
and  turned  down  the  collar  of  his  overcoat,  to  see  if  he 
wore  a  white  cravat.  But  what  can  you  expect  from  the 
lymphatic  temperament  ?  There  's  no  muscle  about  him, 
only  adipose  substance,  and  his  neck  is  as  thin  as  the 
back  of  a  rail." 

Smithers  untied  his  scarlet  cravat  and  loosened  his 
shirt-collar,  as  if  to  show  that  his  neck  was  the  reverse  of 
thin,  —  and,  indeed,  it  bore  no  slight  resemblance  to  a 
plethoric  column  of  the  Indian  cave-temples,  surmounted 
by  its  poppy-head  capital.  He  would  have  accepted  this 
comparison  as  a  compliment.  He  knew  just  enough  of 
the  Indian  mythology  to  suppose  that  some  of  its  features 
were  rude,  primitive  forms  of  his  own  philosophy  of  life ; 
he  also  adored  the  symbol  of  Siva,  but  under  a  less 
exalted  significance. 

All  the  initiation-fees  of  our  clique  or  club  had  been 
contributed  long  since,  and  each  individual  was  now  forced 
to  pay  for  his  own  refreshment ;  yet  this  necessity  seemed 
to  be  no  embarrassment.  There  might  be  no  funds  on 
hand  for  a  new  coat  or  pair  of  boots,  but  there  was  always 
enough  for  been  I  ordered  a  Toby  of  old  ale,  and  drank 
it  down,  at  one  breath,  from  the  cock  of  the  hat.  Mears 
immediately  drew  a  caricature  of  me,  holding  a  barrel 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  395 

aloft  by  the  chines,  with  the  bung-hole  over  my  open 
mouth.  Miles  was  an  infallible  judge  of  ales,  and  the 
keen,  ripe  fluid  brought  life  and  warmth  back  to  my  stag 
nant  blood.  I  was  too  reckless  to  stop  short  of  any  extrav 
agance,  whether  of  potation  or  of  speech. 

"  Godfrey,  is  it  to  be  an  epic  or  a  tragedy  ?  "  cried  Mears. 
"  You  've  got  a  thirsty  idea  in  your  head,  —  a  big  plant,  I 
should  say,  to  require  so  much  irrigation."  Then  he  roared 
out  a  stanza  of  the  old  bacchanal  of  Walter  de  Mapes, 
which  he  had  learned  to  sing  at  Diisseldorf. 

"  Tales  versus  facio,  quale  vinum  bibo ; 
Neque  possum  scribere,  nisi  sumto  cibo ; 
Nibil  valet  penitus  quod  jejunus  scribo; 
Nasonem  post  calices  carmine  praeibo."  . 

"  That  sounds  more  like  a  jubilate  for  a  birth  than  a 
mass  for  the  dead,"  said  Brandagee,  entering  the  room. 
"  Has  any  of  you  just  been  delivered  ?  " 

"  It 's  the  inauguration  hymn  for  the  Oracle,"  I  retorted. 
"  and  you  are  just  in  time  to  give  the  opening  address." 

"  Here  it  is,  —  Babcock  has  come  to  terms.  This  time 
we  shall  begin  with  the  Opera,  and  I  fancy  we  '11  make  a 
sensation.  The  Impresario  is  all  right ;  I  Ve  just  had  a 
bottle  with  him  at  Curet's.  Now  to  lubricate  my  tongue, 

—  what  can  I  take  after  Beaume  ?  " 
"  Whiskey,"  suggested  Smithers. 

"  Yes,  if  I  could  order  one  of  your  famous  'long-shore 
men's  stomachs  with  it.  But  my  taste  is  delicate  to-night, 

—  I  want  claret.     Who  '11  lend  me  money  at  the  risk  of 
never  being  repaid  ?  " 

None  of  the  others  were  eager  to  embrace  the  risk, 
which  noticing,  I  handed  Brandagee  a  five-dollar  note 
across  the  table.  The  money  had  no  value  to  me  now, 
and  I  wanted  the  help  of  his  reckless  fancy  and  his  auda 
cious  tongue. 

"  Godfrey,  you  deserve  to  make  heavier  profits,"  said  he. 
"  I  '11  put  you  in  the  way  of  it  for  the  sake  of  a  loan  now 


396  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

and  then.  Meanwhile  you  shall  have  the  half  of  what  this 
brings,  and  I  '11  continue  to  owe  you  the  whole  of  it.  In 
that  way  we  shall  both  gain  by  the  operation." 

Amid  much  laughter  the  order  was  given,  and  we  were 
fairly  launched  on  the  fun  of  the  evening.  Miles,  who  was 
always  in  a  good  humor  when  there  was  a  certainty  of  our 
spending  a  respectable  sum,  contributed  a  handful  of 
cigars,  and  the  air  of  the  room  soon  put  on  its  blue 
mysterious  density,  severe  upon  the  eyes,  but  stimulating 
to  the  imagination. 

" About  the  Oracle"  said  Brandagee,  throwing  his  heels 
upon  another  chair  and  settling  himself  comfortably  for 
talk,  —  "  we  must  seriously  begin  to  work  for  it.  I  think  it 
would  be  best  to  open  the  first  number  with  a  burlesque 
platform,  in  the  style  of  the  political  papers,  —  making  our 
principles  so  broad  that  they  would  just  amount  to  none  at 
all.  I  had  it  in  mind  to  copy  the  plan  of  Le  Flaneur, 
which  came  out  while  I  was  in  Paris.  There  was  nothing 
about  it  to  indicate  a  new  paper:  the  leader  began,  'In  our 
article  of  yesterday  we  said '  so  and  so  ;  and  the  novel  in 
the  feuitteton  was  in  its  ninth  chapter.  It  mystified  every 
body,  as  you  may  imagine.  But  I  guess  the  joke  would  be 
too  fine  for  the  American  mind  to  relish.  What  passes  for 
wit  among  us,  is  simply  a  colossal  absurdity ;  our  bur 
lesques  are  the  most  exaggerated  the  world  ever  saw.  We 
must  throw  tubs  to  the  whale  and  sops  to  Cerberus.  After 
all,  I  rely  most  on  the  incidental  sources  of  profit  to  keep 
up  the  paper." 

"  As  how  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  company. 

"  Well,  if  there  is  audacity  and  arrogance  enough  among 
us,  we  '11  soon  get  a  reputation  for  critical  knowledge. 
Once  let  the  Oracle  become  the  oracle  of  opinion  in  artis 
tic,  dramatic,  and  fashionable  matters,  and  you  see  what  our 
recommendation  will  be  worth.  Why,  two  or  three  theatres 
alone  would  club  together  to  keep  up  a  paper  which  sent 
the  public  to  their  ticket-offices,  if  there  were  any  danger 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  397 

of  it  going  down.  This  is  the  simple  philosophy  of  the 
matter :  we  know  what  is  good  or  bad,  —  the  public  don't. 
The  public,  let  me  tell  you,  always  takes  its  opinion  on  such 
matters  at  second-hand,  and  is  often  put  to  much  inconven 
ience  by  the  absence  of  an  infallible  standard.  Now,  sup 
pose  we  supply  this  standard  ;  we  then  hold  the  fate  of 
every  book,  picture,  play,  opera,  —  to  say  nothing  of  hotels, 
restaurants,  tailors'  and  milliners'  establishments,  and  the 
like,  —  in  our  own  hands.  We  have  a  positive  power,  and  the 
exercise  of  power  is  just  what  commands  the  highest  price. 
All  we  want  is  talent  enough  to  maintain  our  position.  I 
think  we  have  that,  and  the  next  thing  is  to  work  together. 
Somebody  must  take  the  lead  and  direct  the  operations  of 
the  concern,  and  the  others  must  submit  to  his  direction, 
or  we  're  ruined  before  we  begin." 

That  somebody,  we  all  understood,  must  be  Brandagee 
himself.  The  prospect  of  entire  submission  to  his  dicta 
tion  was  not  altogether  pleasant  to  any  of  us,  but  he  pre 
sented  it  as  an  ultimatum  which  must  needs  be  accepted. 
I  was  not  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  notice  any  other  fact  than 
that  I  should  be  well  paid  for  a  few  sharp,  bitter,  racy  arti 
cles,  —  such  as  I  felt  myself  in  a  proper  mood  to  write. 
As  to  Brandagee's  hints  of  the  channels  through  which  the 
incidental  profits  were  to  be  derived,  they  did  not  trouble 
me  now.  If  people  paid,  they  were  supposed  to  receive  an 
equivalent,  —  at  least,  they  would  think  so,  and  they  were 
the  parties  most  concerned. 

"  Not  a  bad  plan,"  said  Smithers,  referring  to  this  branch 
of  the  business.  "  It 's  a  sort  of  literary  filibustering  which 
will  develop  mental  courage  and  muscle,  —  qualities  which 
this  age  sorely  needs.  We  shall  be  like  the  wandering 
knights  of  the  Middle  Ages,  going  out  to  conquer  domains 
and  principalities,  or  like  the  Highland  chieftains,  swoop 
ing  down  on  the  plodding  Lowlanders,  and  taking  their 
surplus  cattle.  In  fact,  we  could  n't  have  a  better  motto 
than  Rob  Roy's." 


398  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  There  's  Florentine,  for  instance,"  said  Brandagee. 
"  What  he  has  done,  we  may  do,  —  all  the  more  easily  here, 
where  there  are  no  intelligent  rivals  in  the  field.  He  's  a 
tolerably  clever  writer,  but  his  chief  power  is  in  manage 
ment.  He  knows  everybody,  and  has  the  run  of  all  the  in 
fluential  papers,  so  that  whether  his  word  is  the  strongest 
or  not,  it  goes  further  than  any  one  else's.  I  suppose  the 
same  thing  might  be  tried  here,  if  the  chief  dailies  were 
not  such  damnable  cats  and  dogs,  but  if  we  can  lump  the  in 
fluence  now  scattered  among  them,  and  hold  it  as  our  own 
property,  don't  you  see  how  the  system  will  be  simplified  ?  " 

The  others  all  professed  they  saw  it  very  clearly.  In 
fact,  as  they  began  to  understand  "  the  system,"  they  grew 
more  willing  to  leave  to  Brandagee  the  task  of  carrying  it 
into  effect.  Mears  no  longer  hinted  at  "  black  mail,"  but 
rejoiced  in  the  opportunity  offered  to  him  of  demolishing 
Seacole,  the  allegorical  painter.  The  opinions  of  the  lat 
ter  on  the  connection  between  Faith  and  Art,  which  I  was 
wicked  enough  to  betray,  gave  Mears  the  material  for  an 
exquisitely  ironical  description  of  his  rival,  letting  his  beard 
and  nails  grow  and  rolling  himself  in  the  ash-heap,  to  pre 
pare  his  soul  for  the  conception  of  a  figure  of  St.  Jerome. 

There  was  another  feeling  which  instigated  me  to  join  in 
this  dishonorable  scheme.  My  literary  ambition,  I  have  al 
ready  said,  was  disturbed ;  its  fresh,  eager  appetite  was 
blunted,  with  increasing  knowledge  of  myself,  and  from  the 
other  fluctuations  of  my  fortunes,  —  but  I  was  also  disap 
pointed,  though  I  would  not  confess  the  fact  to  myself. 
After  the  kind,  almost  tender  reception  of  my  volume,  I 
seemed  to  make  no  progress.  I  was  welcomed  at  my  en 
trance  into  the  literary  guild,  and  then  —  ignored.  The 
curiosity  attending  the  presentation  of  a  new  individuality 
in  letters  is  soon  satisfied,  and  many  are  the  unfortunate 
authors  who  have  accepted  this  curiosity  as  fame.  But 
serious  achievement  is  necessary  to  retain  an  interest  which 
is  liable  to  be  overlaid  by  the  next  comer.  The  public 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  399 

seems  to  say,  "This  man  may  be  a  genius,  —  we  have  given 
him  welcome  and  encouragement ;  now  let  him  prove  his 
right ! " 

The  rule  is  natural,  and  I  am  satisfied  that  it  is  just. 
The  firstlings  of  any  author  generally  have  an  artless,  un 
pretending  beauty  of  their  own,  which  is  none  the  less  in 
teresting  because  it  is  not  permanent.  Poets  are  like 
apple-trees ;  there  is  a  season  of  bloom  and  a  season  of 
fruit,  —  but  between  the  two  we  often  find  a  long  period 
when  the  blossoms  have  fallen  and  the  fruit  is  not  yet  ripe, 
—  a  silent,  noteless,  almost  unlovely  season  of  growth  and 
transition.  The  world,  at  such  times,  passes  heedlessly  by 
the  tree. 

Though  I  professed  to  be  indifferent  to  the  neglect  of 
my  name,  I  was  in  reality  embittered.  I  might  value  a  lit 
erary  reputation  less  than  formerly,  but  it  was  not  pleasant 
to  feel  that  I  was  losing  my  chance  for  it.  I  saw  that  other 
young  authors,  comparison  with  whom  —  impartially  made, 
although  I  did  it  —  was  not  unfavorable  to  myself,  kept 
their  hold  on  the  public  attention,  while  others,  in  whom  I 
found  neither  taste  nor  culture,  were  rising  into  notice.  It 
would  be  well,  I  thought,  to  let  the  public  see  how  egre- 
giously  it  was  mistaken  in  some  of  these  cases ;  I  would 
show  that  slang  and  clap-trap  very  often  make  the  staple 
of  a  wide-spread  reputation. 

This  petulant,  captious  disposition  was  encouraged  by  the 
tone  adopted  by  my  associates  of  the  Cave  of  Trophonius. 
I  was  astonished  and  a  little  shocked  at  first,  but  I  soon  be 
came  accustomed  to  the  cool,  assured  manner  in  which  con 
temporary  fames  were  pulled  to  pieces,  and  the  judgment 
of  posterity  pronounced  in  anticipation.  This  sort  of  as 
surance  is  soon  acquired,  and  in  a  short  time  I  became  as 
great  an  expert  as  the  rest.  Having  already  unlearned  so 
much  of  my  early  faith  and  reverence,  —  making  them  re 
sponsible,  indeed,  for  my  misfortunes,  —  I  rather  exagger 
ated  the  opposite  qualities,  through  fear  of  not  sufficiently 


400  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

possessing  them.  It  was  a  pitiful  weakness,  but,  alas  !  we 
can  only  see  correctly  our  former,  not  our  present  selves. 

When  I  arose,  late  the  next  day,  after  a  revel  carried 
beyond  midnight,  I  was  in  no  better  mood  for  resuming  my 
regular  labors.  Duty,  in  any  shape,  had  become  "flat, 
stale,  and  unprofitable,"  and  I  felt  strongly  inclined  to  com 
pensate  for  the  lack  of  that  luxurious  indulgence  which  my 
nature  craved,  by  lower  forms  of  license.  The  blow  of  the 
previous  evening  had  stunned  rather  than  wounded  me, 
and  I  felt  that  I  should  never  again  be  sensitive  to  the 
good  or  ill  report  of  men. 

As  for  Miss  Haworth,  two  explanations  of  her  act  pre 
sented  themselves  to  my  mind.  Either  Penrose  or  Floyd 
had  misrepresented  my  character  to  her,  or  her  position  as 
an  heiress  had  made  her  suspicious,  and  she  attributed  a  mer 
cenary  object  to  my  attentions.  The  latter  surmise  seemed 
the  more  plausible,  as  the  circle  in  which  she  moved  prob 
ably  offered  her  few  examples  of  pure,  unselfish  unions. 
The  higher  her  ideal  of  love,  the  more  cautious  she  would 
be  to  keep  from  her  its  baser  semblance,  and  my  principal 
cause  of  grievance  was,  that,  in  her  haste  and  suspicion,  she 
had  misjudged  my  heart.  I  could  not  seek  a  justification ; 
it  was  too  delicate  a  subject  to  be  discussed,  except  between 
confessed  lovers.  She  might  have  dismissed  me  in  less 

o 

cruel  a  fashion,  I  thought,  but  it  made  little  difference  in 
the  end.  She  was  lost  to  me,  without  giving  me  a  reason 
for  ceasing  to  love  her. 

The  more  I  reflected  on  this  subject,  the  more  sure  I 
was  of  having  guessed  the  true  explanation.  She  had  re 
jected  me,  not  because  I  was  poor,  but  because  she  was 
rich,  —  I,  that  would  have  thought  it  bliss  to  work  for  her, 
to  wear  out  my  life  in  making  hers  smooth  and  pleasant  to 
her  feet !  I  said,  with  a  bitter  ejaculation,  that  gold  is  the 
god  of  the  world,  —  that  no  heart  can  beat  with  a  natural 
emotion,  no  power  of  mind  expand  with  a  free  growth,  no 
life  rejoice  in  the  performance  of  its  appointed  work,  with- 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  401 

out  first  rendering  sacrifice  to  this  Moloch  !  And  yet,  what 
Brandagee  had  said  was  true ;  it  was  no  substance,  it  had 
not  even  the  dignity  of  a  material  force :  it  was  simply  an 
appearance,  —  nothing  when  held  and  only  turning  into 
possession  when  thrown  away. 

I  accepted,  with  stolid  indifference,  the  prospect  of  a 
lonely  life.  Never  again  would  I  allow  myself  to  love  a 
woman,  when  the  love  of  this  one  should  have  gradually 
perished  (as  I  fancied  it  would),  for  want  of  sustenance. 
No  home,  no  household  joys,  should  ever  be  mine.  The 
sainted  spirit  of  my  poor  mother  would  never  be  called 
upon  to  bless  the  grandchildren  whom  she  would  fain  have 
lived  to  kiss :  I  should  go  back  to  her  alone,  as  on  Saturday 
nights  from  my  school  at  Honeybrook,  —  if,  indeed,  there 
was  anything  beyond  the  ashes  of  the  grave.  This  life,  that 
opened  so  sunnily,  that  promised  so  fairly,  —  what  had  it 
become  ?  and  why,  therefore,  should  our  dreams  of  rest  and 
peace  hereafter  be  more  securely  based  ?  What  sort  of  a 
preparation  was  there  in  the  endurance  of  disappointment 
and  injustice,  to  a  nature  whose  natural  food  is  joy  ? 

So  I  reasoned  —  or,  rather,  thought  I  reasoned  —  with 
myself.  There  was  no  one  to  hold  me  up  until  my  feet  were 
strong  enough  to  tread  the  safe  and  difficult  track  alone. 
Swansford  was  my  only  intimate  friend,  but,  as  I  had  not 
confided  to  him  the  growth  of  my  passion,  so  now  I  with 
held  the  confession  of  its  untimely  end.  Besides,  he  seemed 
to  be  growing  more  sad  and  morbid.  His  views  of  life,  if 
less  cynical,  were  equally  dark,  and  he  often  unconsciously 
encouraged  me  in  my  reckless  determination  to  enjoy  "  the 
luck  of  the  moment,"  whatever  it  might  be.  My  position 
in  Literature  was  similar  to  his  in  Musical  Art ;  both  had 
aspired  and  failed  to  achieve.  The  drudgery  by  which  he 
supplied  his  personal  wants  was  very  irksome,  but  he  would 
not  replace  it,  as  he  might  have  done,  by  labors  which  he 
considered  disgraceful  to  his  art.  Herein  there  was  a 
difference  between  us,  —  a  difference  which  at  first  had 


402  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

made  me  respect  him,  but  which  I  now  turned  to  ridicule. 
If  he  were  fool  enough  to  sacrifice  his  few  possibilities  of 
enjoyment  to  an  unprofitable  idea,  I  would  not  imitate  him. 

After  a  few  days  of  idle  and  gloomy  brooding,  followed 
by  nights  at  the  Ichneumon,  I  was  driven  back  to  the 
Wonder  office,  by  the  emptiness  of  my  purse.  I  resumed 
my  duties,  performing  them  in  a  spiritless,  mechanical  fash 
ion,  with  omissions  which  drew  upon  me  Mr.  Clarendon's 
censure.  The  Oracle  was  to  appear  in  a  fortnight  or  so, 
and  I  comforted  myself  with  the  pecuniary  prospect  which 
it  held  out  to  me,  resolving,  if  it  were  successful,  to  cut 
loose  from  the  daily  treadmill  round  of  the  Wonder.  My 
short  articles  for  Jenks's  Ship  of  the  Line  became  smart 
and  savage,  as  they  reflected  the  change  of  my  temper,  and 
Jenks  began  to  send  back  the  proofs  to  me  with  a  query  on 
the  margin,  —  "  Is  n't  this  a  little  too  strong  ?  "  Following 
Brandagee's  advice,  I  had  demanded  twenty  dollars  instead 
of  the  original  five,  but,  as  I  lacked  his  brass,  compromised 
for  ten.  This,  however,  was  a  small  matter :  I  counted  on 
receiving  fifty  dollars  a  week,  at  least,  from  the  Oracle. 

The  days  went  by,  fogs  and  chill,  lowering  skies  succeed 
ed  to  the  soft  autumnal  days,  and  finally  the  opera  season 
opened  and  the  important  paper  appeared.  There  was  an 
office  in  a  third  story  in  Nassau  Street,  a  sign  in  illuminated 
Gothic  letters,  advertisements  in  the  daily  papers,  negotia 
tions  with  news-dealers,  and  all  the  other  evidences  of  an 
establishment,  intended  not  for  a  day  but  for  —  several 
years,  at  least.  We  celebrated  the  issue  of  the  first  num 
ber  by  a  supper  at  Curet's,  at  which  Mr.  Babcock  was  pres 
ent.  It  was  unanimously  agreed  that  nothing  so  spicy  and 
brilliant  had  ever  been  published  in  New  York.  It  trans 
pired,  in  the  course  of  the  entertainment,  that  Babcock  and 
Brandagee  had  equal  shares  in  the  proprietorship,  and  I 
was,  consequently,  a  little  disappointed  when  the  latter 
handed  me  only  fifteen  dollars  for  one  of  my  most  dashing 
and  spiteful  sketches,  three  columns  in  length. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  403 

44  We  must  have  the  power  first,"  he  said,  "  and  then  we  '11 
have  the  pay.  Babcock  is  tight,  and  I  don't  want  to  make 
him  nervous  at  the  start.  It  will  take  about  three  or  four 
weeks  to  get  the  reins  in  my  hands." 

He  gave  me  a  significant  wink,  and  I  was  reassured. 
There  was  the  great  fact  of  the  paper  being  actually  in 
existence.  Creation,  of  course,  implied  vitality,  and  the 
mere  start,  to  my  mind,  involved  permanence  and  success. 
An  easy,  careless  life  was  before  me  for  the  immediate 
future,  at  least,  and  I  did  not  care  to  look  farther. 

I  knew,  from  Mr.  Severn's  hints,  as  well  as  from  Mr. 
Clarendon's  ominous  looks,  that  I  was  getting  into  disgrace 
with  both  of  them.  Accordingly,  I  was  not  surprised  one 
Saturday  morning,  on  being  summoned  to  the  sanctum  of 
the  latter,  —  a  call  which  I  obeyed  with  a  dogged  indiffer 
ence  to  the  result. 

"I  am  sorry  to  notice  your  remissness,  Mr.  Godfrey," 
said  the  chief,  with  a  grave  air,  "and  I  have  only  post 
poned  speaking  of  it,  because  I  hoped  you  would  have 
seen  and  corrected  it  yourself.  The  paper  is  injured,  sir, 
by  your  neglect." 

"  I  work  as  I  am  paid,"  I  answered.  "  If  you  can  find  a 
better  man,  on  the  same  terms,  I  am  willing  to  give  him 
my  place." 

"  It  is  not  that  alone,  Mr.  Godfrey.  You  promised  to 
become  an  available  writer,  and  your  remuneration  would 
have  been  increased.  I  am  afraid  the  company  you  keep 
or  the  habits  you  have  formed  are  responsible  for  your 
failure  to  advance  as  fast  as  I  anticipated.  For  your  own 
sake,  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  can  assure  me  that  this  is  not 
the  case." 

"  I  was  not  aware,"  I  said,  "  that  I  was  to  look  to  some 
one  else  to  choose  my  company  and  prescribe  my  habits." 

"  I  suspect,"  he  continued,  without  noticing  this  defiant 
remark,  "  that  Brandagee  has  too  much  influence  over  you. 
I  see  your  name  in  his  new  paper,  —  a  clever  rocket,  but  it 


404  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

will  soon  burn  itself  out.  I  advise  you  to  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  it." 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  I  prefer  giving  up  my  place  here." 

"  Very  well,  but  I  am  sorry  for  it.  Mr.  Severn ! "  he 
called,  rising  and  going  to  the  door,  "  see  Phelps  this  after 
noon,  and  tell  him  to  be  on  hand  to-morrow  evening ! " 

Severn  looked  at  me,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  with  a 
malignant  expression.  I  laughed  in  his  face,  took  a  few 
private  papers  from  the  drawers  of  the  desk  I  had  used 
for  two  years  and  a  half,  thrust  them  into  my  pocket,  and 
walked  out  of  the  office. 

On  the  steps  I  met  Mr.  Lettsom,  with  his  hands  full  of 
law-reports  on  transfer-paper.  I  had  always  liked  the 
plain,  plodding,  kind-hearted  fellow,  and  would  fain  present 
him  in  these  pages  as  he  deserved,  but  that,  after  his 
first  service,  he  mingled  no  more  in  the  events  of  my  life. 

"  Good-bye,  Lettsom,"  I  said,  giving  him  my  hand ;  "  you 
brought  me  here,  and  now  I  am  taking  myself  off." 

He  looked  bewildered  and  pained  when  I  told  him  what 
had  occurred.  "  Don't  do  it,  —  don't  think  of  doing  it ! " 
he  cried. 

"  It  is  already  done." 

I  ran  down  the  steps  past  him,  and  gained  the  street. 
My  days  of  drudgery  were  over,  but  I  could  not  enjoy  the 
sense  of  freedom.  There  was  a  pang  in  breaking  off  this 
association  which  I  could  not  keep  down,  —  it  was  like 
pushing  away  from  the  last  little  cape  which  connected 
me  with  the  firm  land,  and  trusting  myself  to  the  unsta 
ble  sea. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  405 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

CONCERNING    MARY   MALONEY's    TROUBLE,   AND    WHAT   I 
DID    TO    REMOVE    IT. 

ONE  of  the  first  results  of  the  vagabond  life  into  which 
I  was  rapidly  drifting  was  a  dislike  for  the  steady,  ordered, 
respectable  circles  of  society.  I  looked,  with  a  contempt 
which,  I  now  suspect,  must  have  been  half  envy,  on  the 
smooth,  prosperous  regularity  of  their  ways,  and  only  felt 
myself  at  ease  among  my  clever,  lawless  associates,  or 
among  those  who  were  poor  and  rude  enough  to  set  aside 
conventionalities.  Thus  it  happened  that  I  visited  Mary 
Maloney  much  more  frequently  at  this  time  than  formerly. 
Jane  Berry  had  been  promoted,  and  was  allowed  to  work 
at  home,  and  I  found  a  great  pleasure  in  the  society  of  two 
women  who  knew  nothing  of  me  —  and  would  probably 
believe  nothing  —  but  good.  They  were  both  ignorant, 
and  they  looked  up  to  me  for  counsel,  and  listened  to  my 
words  with  a  manifest  reverence,  which,  to  a  man  of  my 
years,  was  a  most  delicate  flattery. 

Sometimes  I  went  in  the  early  evening,  with  a  few 
ounces  of  tea,  or  some  other  slight  gift,  as  my  excuse,  but 
oftenest  in  the  afternoons,  when  Hugh  was  sure  to  be 
absent.  The  silence  of  this  growing  bully,  and  the  glances 
which  he  shot  at  me  out  of  his  bold  eyes,  were  not  encour 
agements  to  conversation  in  his  presence.  I  fancied  him 
to  be  one  of  those  natures,  at  once  coarse  and  proud,  who 
bear  an  obligation  almost  as  restively  as  if  it  were  an 
injury. 

After  a  while,  however,  I  detected  a  change  in  Mary 


406  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

Maloney's  manner  towards  me.  She  no  longer  met  me 
with  the  same  hale,  free  welcome  when  I  came :  her 
tongue,  wont  to  run  only  too  fast,  halted  and  stumbled ; 
I  could  see,  although  she  strove  to  hide  it,  that  my  pres 
ence  was  a  constraint,  yet  could  not  guess  why  it  should 
be  so.  This  was  annoying,  not  only  on  account  of  the  old 
familiarity  between  us,  but  because  I  had  a  hearty  liking 
for  Jane  Berry,  who  was  almost  the  only  person  living  in 
whose  fate  I  was  earnestly  interested. 

The  latter,  since  the  night  when  she  had  confided  to  me 
her  history,  no  longer  met  me  with  a  shy,  blushing  face, 
but  showed  a  frank,  fearless  pleasure  in  my  society.  My 
visits  seemed  to  cheer  and  encourage  her,  and  with  the 
growing  •  sense  of  security,  her  hopeful  spirit  returned. 
She  would  soon  be  ready,  I  believed,  to  think  of  going 
back  to  the  little  New  Jersey  village. 

It  was  near  Christmas,  —  I  remember  trying  to  fix  upon 
some  appropriate,  inexpensive  gift  for  the  only  two  female 
friends  left  to  me,  as  I  walked  by  the  gayly  decorated 
shops  in  Broadway,  —  when  I  turned,  one  afternoon,  into 
Gooseberry  Alley.  I  met  Mary  Maloney  at  the  door  of 
the  tenement-house,  with  her  bonnet  on,  and  a  basket  of 
laundered  linen  in  her  hand. 

"  What !  —  going  away,  Mary  ?  "  I  said.  "  I  was  about  to 
pay  you  a  visit." 

She  put  down  her  basket  on  the  floor  of  the  passage, 
and  looked  at  me  with  a  troubled  expression.  "  Miss 
Jenny  's  at  home,"  she  said  at  last,  with  an  air  of  hesitation, 
"  but  I  s'pose,  sir,  you  would  n't  want  to  see  her,  and  me 
not  there?" 

"  Why  not  ?  "  I  answered,  laughing.  "  She 's  not  afraid 
of  me,  nor  you  either,  Mary.  Have  I  grown  to  be  danger 
ous  all  at  once  ?  " 

"  Sure,  and  it  is  n't  that,  Mr.  Godfrey.  Would  you  mind 
comin'  a  bit  down  the  strate  wi'  me  ?  I  'd  like  to  spake 
with  you  for  a  minute,  jist." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  407 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  I  said,  turning  and  walking  in  advance 
between  the  gutter  and  the  wall,  until  I  reached  the  broader 
sidewalk  of  Sullivan  Street.  Here  she  joined  me  with  her 
basket,  and,  when  we  were  beyond  hearing  of  any  strag 
glers  in  the  Alley,  halted. 

"  I  'm  a  widow,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  she  said,  "  and,  askin'  y'r 
pardon,  sir,  nigh  old  enough  to  be  the  mother  o'  you. 
There  's  been  somethin'  I  've  been  a-wantin'  to  say  to  you, 
but  it  is  n't  a  thing  that 's  aisy  said ;  —  howsiver,  I  've  spoke 
to  the  praste  about  it,  and  he  says  as  you  're  a  proper  young 
man  and  my  intentions  is  right,  it 's  no  sin,  naither  shame, 
but  rather  a  bounden  juty,  sir,  —  and  I  hope  you  '11  take 
it  so.  It  may  n't  seem  right  for  me  to  go  fornenst  you, 
bein'  so  beholden  to  your  goodness,  and  I  wud  n't  if  there 
was  any  way  to  help  it." 

Here  she  paused,  as  if  expecting  a  reply.  I  had  no  idea, 
however,  of  the. communication  so  solemnly  preluded,  and 
would  have  laughed  outright  but  for  the  grave  expression 
of  her  face.  *'  I  understand  that,  Mary,"  I  said  ;  "  now  tell 
me  the  rest." 

"  It 's  about  Miss  Jenny,  sir.  The  neighbors  knowed  of 
her  comin',  and  who  brought  her,  all  along  o'  Feeny's  bein' 
roused  up  in  the  night,  and  their  tongues  was  n't  idle,  you 
may  think.  Girls  wantin'  sewin'  a'n't  to  be  picked  up  in 
the  strates  o'  midnights,  and  though  I  knowed  it  was  all 
right  because  you  said  so,  it  was  n't  quare,  considering  that 
folks  should  talk.  You  may  think  it  'd  make  little  differ 
ence,  anyhow,  among  us  poor  bodies ;  but  we  have  our  car- 
rackters  as  well  as  our  betters.  Well  —  when  they  saw 
how  handy  and  stiddy  she  was  at  her  needle,  they  seemed 
to  give  me  the  rights  of  it;  but  now  it's  all  t'  other  way, 
along  o'  you  comin'  so  fraiquently,  sir,  —  and  I'm  sure 
you  're  welcome,  ivery  time,  —  and  as  for  me,  I  'm  an  honest 
woman,  and  nobody  can  say  a  word  fornenst  me,  barrin* 
they  lie, —  but  things  is  said,  sir,  as  is  n't  agrayable  to  hear 
and  hardly  clacent  to  repate.  Maybe  you  can  guess  'em." 


408  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  What ! "  I  exclaimed,  "  do  they  charge  Jane  Berry 
with  being  a  mistress  of  mine  ?  I  suppose  that  is  what 
you  mean.  You  know,  Mary,  that  it  is  a  lie." 

"I  know,  sir,"  she  answered,  "but  my  word  goes  for 
nothin'  aginst  appairances.  Feenys  takes  my  part,  and 
says  if  it 's  so,  it 's  unbeknowns  to  me,  —  which  would  be 
true  if  the  t'  other  thing  was,  —  but,  in  course,  that  don't 
stop  their  tongues.  You  see,  sir,  I  can't  bring  it  over  my 
heart  to  tell  her,  —  she  's  a  dacent,  kindly,  lovin'  little  body 
as  iver  was  ;  but  she  '11  find  it  out  to  her  sorra." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  rather  than  that  you  and  she  should 
be  annoyed  and  slandered  in  this  way,  I  must  give  up  my 
visits.  Is  there  anything  else  I  can  do  to  satisfy  those 
fools?" 

"  There  was  somethin'  else  I  had  on  my  mind,  and  there  's 
no  use  o'  makin'  two  bites  at  a  cherry,"  said  she,  with  a 
curious  misapplication  of  the  proverb.  But  her  face  grew 
red  and  her  voice  dropped  to  a  whisper.  I  began  to  fear 
—  absurd  as  the  thought  was  —  that  she  also  had  been 
implicated  in  those  amiable  reports. 

"  It 's  harder  to  tell,"  she  said  at  last,  wiping  her  face 
with  her  apron,  "but  maybe  you'll  know  what  I  mane, 
without  my  sayin'  too  much.  I  'm  thinkin'  o'  Hugh.  I  've 
seen,  plainly  enough,  that  somethin 's  the  matter  wi'  the 
lad,  iver  since  she  come  into  the  house.  If  he 's  an  honest 
likin'  to  her,  it  is  n't  to  be  thought  that  she  '11  take  up  wi' 
the  likes  o'  him,  —  though  there  a'n't  a  stouter  and  whole- 
somer  boy  o'  his  age  in  New  York,  —  and  if  he  has  n't,  it 's 
worse.  He  can't  keep  the  eyes  of  him  off  her,  and  the 
temper  of  him 's  jist  mint  intirely.  Maybe  I  'm  doin' 
wrong,  bearin'  witness  aginst  my  own  boy,  but  if  you  could 
hear  him  swear  sometimes,  sir,  and  grind  his  teeth  in  his 
slape,  as  I  do,  layin'  awake  and  thinkin'  what 's  to  be 
done  ! " 

The  widow's  words  threw  a  quick,  strong  light  on  Hugh's 
behavior.  She  was  keener-sighted  than  I,  and  she  had 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  409 

placed  the  whole  situation  clearly  before  me.  Evidently, 
she  relied  upon  me  to  relieve  both  her  and  Jane  Berry 
from  its  certain  distress,  its  possible  danger,  —  and  she  must 
not  be  disappointed. 

"  Mary,"  I  said,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  "  I  am  so 
surprised  by  all  this  that  I  must  take  time  to  think  it  over. 
You  were  quite  right  to  tell  me,  and  I  give  you  my  word 
that  I  will  not  stop  until  the  matter  is  set  right." 

"  Thank  ye,  sir ! "  she  gratefully  exclaimed.  "  I  knowed 
you  had  the  knowlidge  and  the  willin'  heart." 

Then  she  went  on  down  Sullivan  Street,  while  I  turned 
in  the  opposite  direction,  intending  to  go  into  Washington 
Square  and  turn  the  subject  over  in  my  mind,  as  I  had 
promised.  I  was  profoundly  vexed,  —  not  that  /cared  for 
the  suspicions  of  that  Irish  pack,  but  on  Jane  Berry's  ac 
count.  Of  course  she  must  leave  Gooseberry  Alley  without 
delay,  and  my  principal  task  was  to  find  a  pretext  for 
removing  her. 

What  was  the  thought  that  suddenly  caused  me  to  stop, 
and  then  hurried  me  back  the  way  I  came  ?  As  this  is 
to  be  an  impartial  history,  it  must  be  told ;  but  I  can  best 
tell  it  by  relating  what  followed.  Every  detail  of  the  scene 
remains  fresh  and  vivid  in  my  memory. 

I  reiintered  Gooseberry  Alley,  and  in  another  moment 
knocked  at  the  door  of  Mary  Maloney's  lodgings.  It  was 
opened,  as  I  expected,  by  Jane  Berry,  and  I  carefully 
closed  it  behind  me  as  I  entered,  lest  any  of  the  Feenys 
might  be  eavesdropping.  Jane  had  taken  her  work  to  the 
window  of  the  little  kitchen,  where  there  was  more  light 
of  an  afternoon,  and  briskly  resumed  her  needle  after  ad 
mitting  me.  I  noticed  how  fine  and  glossy  her  hair  was 
where  the  light  touched  it. 

"  Mary 's  not  at  home,"  she  said,  as  I  took  a  seat. 

"  I  know  it,  Jane,  and  that  is  the  reason  why  I  have  come 
to  see  you.  I  met  her  in  the  street." 

I  was  embarrassed  how  to  proceed  further.  She  looked 
up  with  a  wondering  expectancy,  and  forced  me  to  go  on. 


410  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  I  have  heard  something,"  I  said,  "  which  I  am  afraid 
will  be  very  disagreeable  news  to  you.  I  would  not  come 
to  trouble  you  with  it,  if  I  did  not  think  it  was  necessary." 

She  became  so  pale  and  frightened  all  at  once  that  I 
saw  what  she  suspected,  and  hastened  to  allay  her  fears. 

"  I  know  what  you  are  thinking  of,  Jane  ;  but  it  is  not 
that.  The  woman  has  not  found  you  out,  —  nay,  I  am  sure 
she  has  ceased  looking  for  you  by  this  time.  It  is  some 
thing  which  you  could  not  have  imagined,  —  something 
which  affects  myself  as  well  as  you.  My  visits,  it  seems, 
have  been  noticed  by  the  poor,  ignorant  fools  who  live  in 
these  houses,  and  they  can  only  explain  them  in  their  own 
coarse  way.  I  see  you  don't  understand  me  yet ;  I  must 
say,  then,  that  neither  of  us  is  considered  as  virtuous  as 
the  people  think  we  should  be." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Godfrey  ! "  she  cried,  "  and  I  've  brought  this 
on  you  !  I  'm  sure  it  must  have  been  Mary  who  told  you  ; 
she  has  n't  seemed  to  me  like  the  same  woman  for  a  week 
past,  but  I  thought  she  might  have  troubles  of  her  own. 
I  felt  that  something  was  n't  right,  but  I  never  thought  of 
that !  She  don't  believe  it,  surely  ?  " 

"  She  does  not,"  I  said ;  "  but  this  wicked  gossip  spares 
her  none  the  more  for  that.  She  is  a  good,  kind-hearted 
woman,  and  must  not  be  allowed  to  suffer  on  account  of  it." 

"  No,  no,  —  I  'd  rather  tell  her  everything ;  but,  then, 
it  would  n't  help,  after  all.  I  ought  n't  to  stay  here  since 
the  story  is  believed  ;  what  can  I  do,  if  I  leave  ? "  ' 

"  Make  the  story  true,"  I  said. 

Yes,  those  were  my  very  words.  What  wonder  if  she 
did  not  understand  them,  —  if  her  look  of  innocent  bewil 
derment  caused  my  wanton  eyes  to  drop,  and  a  sting  of  re 
morseful  shame  to  strike  through  my  heart  ?  They  were 
said,  however,  and  could  not  be  recalled,  and  I  saw  that  her 
mind,  in  another  moment,  would  comprehend  their  mean 
ing.  So  I  crushed  down  the  rising  protest  of  my  better 
self,  and  repeated,  — 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  411 

"  Make  the  story  true.  If  we  try  to  be  good,  we  get  no 
credit  for  it,  and  it  is  no  worse  to  be  what  they  say  we  are 
than  to  have  them  believe  so." 

She  still  looked  at  me  incredulously,  though  the  color 
was  deepening  on  her  cheek  and  creeping  down  over  her 
slender  throat.  "  Mr.  Godfrey,"  she  said  at  last,  in  a  low, 
fluttering  voice,  "  you  are  not  saying  what  you  really  think  ?  " 

"  It  is  true  !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  Look  at  the  thing  yourself; 
your  life  is  ruined,  and  so  is  mine.  Everything  goes  wrong 
with  me,  —  doing  right  has  brought  me  nothing  but  mis 
fortune.  You  are  more  to  be  pitied  than  blamed,  yet  the 
villain  who  ruined  you  is  a  respectable  member  of  society, 
no  doubt,  while  you  are  condemned  as  long  as  you  live. 
You  see  how  unjust  is  the  judgment  of  the  world,  —  at  any 
rate,  /  do,  and  I  have  ceased  to  care  for  it.  If  we  unite 
our  lives,  we  may  be  some  comfort  to  each  other.  I  can 
make  enough  money  to  keep  you  from  want,  and  that  is 
probably  all  you  would  ever  have,  if  your  friends  were  to 
take  you  back  again.  You  may  be  sure,  also,  that  I  would 
be  both  kind  and  faithful." 

The  poor  girl  changed  color  repeatedly  while  I  was  ut 
tering  these  cruel  words.  I  thought  she  was  deliberating 
whether  to  accept  my  proposition ;  but  her  heart,  shallow 
as  were  its  emotions,  was  still  too  deep  for  my  vision  to 
fathom.  She  was  too*agitated  to  speak ;  her  lips  moved 
to  inaudible  words,  and  her  eyes  looked  an  unintelligible 
question.  I  stooped  down  and  took  her  hand ;  it  was 
trembling,  and  she  drew  it  gently  out  of  my  grasp.  But  the 
words  were  again  repeated,  and  this  time  I  heard  them,  — 

"  Do  you  love  me  ?  " 

I  felt,  by  a  sudden  flash  of  instinct,  all  that  the  question 
implied.  In  that  moment,  I  became  the  arbiter  of  her  fate. 
There  was  an  instant's  powerful  struggle  between  the  Truth 
and  the  Lie  ;  but,  thank  God,  I  was  not  yet  wholly  debased. 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  I  will  not  deceive  you,  Jane.  I  do  not 
love  you.  Love  !  I  have  had  enough  of  loving.  Yes,  — 


412  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

you  may  know  the  whole  truth ;  I  love  as  you  do,  —  one 
who  is  lost  to  me,  and  through  no  fault  of  mine.  What  is 
left  to  me,  —  to  either  of  us  ?  " 

She  had  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  and  was  weep 
ing  passionately.  I  knew  for  whom  her  tears  were  shed, 
and  how  unavailingly,  —  but  her  grief  was  less  than  mine, 
by  as  much  as  the  difference  in  the  depth  of  our  natures. 
I  felt  no  movement  of  pity  for  her,  because  I  had  ceased  to 
feel  it  for  myself. 

I  waited  until  her  sobs  ceased,  and  then  took  her  hand 
again.  "  Come,  Jane,"  I  said,  "  it  does  no  good  to  re 
member  him.  I,  too,  will  try  to  forget  her  who  has  cast 
me  off,  and  perhaps  you  and  I  mayjcome  to  love  each  other 
after  a  while.  But  we  need  n't  make  any  pretence  in  the 
beginning,  because  we  both  know  better." 

Again  she  released  her  hand,  but  this  time  with  a  quick, 
impulsive  motion.  She  rose  from  her  seat  and  retreated 
a  step  from  me.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  and  her  eyes 
wide  with  a  new  and  unexpected  expression.  "  Don't  say 
anything  more,  Mr.  Godfrey  ! "  she  cried  ;  "  I  am  afraid  of 
you !  Oh,  is  all  the  good  you  've  done  for  me  to  go  for  noth 
ing  ?  I  '11  never  believe  this  was  in  your  mind  when  you 
picked  me  up,  and  set  me  on  my  feet,  and  put  me  in  the 
right  way  again.  I  've  been  praying  God  every  night  to 
bless  you ;  you  seemed  to  me  almost  like  one  of  His  an 
gels,  and  it 's  dreadful  to  see  the  Bad  Spirit  looking  out  of 
your  eyes,  and  putting  words  into  your  mouth.  I  don't 
complain  because  what  you  've  said  to  me  hurts  me  ;  I  've 
no  right  to  expect  anything  else,  —  but  it 's  because  you  Ve 
said  it.  Oh,  Mr.  Godfrey,  don't  say  that  it 's  my  fault,  — 
that  helping  me  has  put  such  things  into  your  head  ;  please, 
don't  say  that !  It  would  be  the  worst  punishment  of  all ! " 

The  intensity  of  her  face,  the  piercing  earnestness  of  her 
voice  and  words,  struck  me  dumb.  It  came  to  my  ear  like 
the  cry  of  a  soul  in  agony,  and  I  saw  that  I  had  here  in 
deed  blasphemously  tampered  with  a  soul's  immortal  inter- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  413 

ests.  The  selfish  logic  by  which  I  had  endeavored  to  per 
suade  her  fell  into  dust  before  the  simple  protest  of  her 
heart.  I  was  too  unskilled  in  the  tactics  of  vice  to  renew 
the  attack,  even  had  I  been  unprincipled  enough  to  desire 
it.  But,  in  truth,  I  stood  humiliated  before  her,  sensible 
only  of  the  fact  that  she  would  never  more  respect  me.  I 
had  been  an  Angel  to  her  artless  fancy ;  henceforth  I  should 
be  a  Devil. 

She  waited  for  an  answer  to  her  last  question,  and  what 
little  comfort  there  might  be  in  my  reply  she  should  have. 

"  Jane,"  I  said,  "  you  are  not  accountable  for  what  I  have 
been  saying.  You  are  far  better  than  I  am.  I  was  honest 
in  trying  to  help  you,  —  this  was  not  in  my  mind,  —  but  I 
won't  answer  for  myself  any  longer.  You  are  right  to  be 
afraid  of  me  :  I  will  go  !  " 

I  turned  as  I  said  these  words,  and  left  the  room.  As 
I  flung  'the  door  behind  me,  I  saw  her  standing  by  the  win 
dow,  with  her  eyes  following  me.  I  fancied,  also,  that  I 
heard  her  once  more  utter  my  name,  but,  even  if  it  were 
true,  I  was  in  no  mood  to  prolong  the  interview.  As  I 
opened  the  outer  door  hastily,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  Mrs. 
Feeny  dodging  into  the  room  on  the  other  side  of  the  pas 
sage. 

On  my  way  down  Sullivan  Street  I  remembered  that  I 
had  done  nothing  towards  relieving  Mary  Maloney  of  her 
trouble.  But  I  soon  dismissed  the  subject  from  my  mind, 
resolved  to  let  the  two  women  settle  it  between  themselves. 
Once  in  my  room,  I  wrote  a  venomous  sketch  for  the  next 
number  of  the  Oracle,  and  passed  my  evening,  as  usual,  at 
the  Ichneumon. 

Two  days  afterwards  the  bells  reminded  me  that  it  was 
Christmas  morn ;  I  had  forgotten  the  day.  I  threw  open 
my  window,  and  listened  to  the  musical  clang,  which  came 
to  my  ears,  crisp  and  sweet,  through  the  frosty  air.  Hav 
ing  now  more  time  at  my  disposal  I  had  resumed  my  Ger 
man  studies,  and  the  lines  of  Faust  returned  to  my  mind,  — 


414  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  Then  seemed  the  breath  of  Heavenly  Love  to  play 
Upon  my  brow,  in  Sabbath  silence  holy ; 
And  filled  with  mystic  presage,  tolling  slowlv, 
The  church-bell  boomed,  and  joy  it  was  to  pray." 

Alas  !  I  had  unlearned  the  habit,  and  the  beautiful  day  of 
Christian  jubilee  awoke  but  a  dull  reverberation  in  my 
heart  A  Merry  Christmas  !  Who  would  speak  the  words 
to  me,  not  as  a  hollow  form,  but  as  a  heart-felt  wish  ? 

There  was  a  knock  at  my  door.  Mary  Maloney  entered 
and  gave  me  the  festive  salutation.  It  came  as  a  response 
to  my  thought,  and  touched  my  heart  with  a  grateful  soft 
ness.  She  carried  a  thin  package  in  her  hand,  and  said, 
as  she  laid  it  on  the  table,  — 

"  I  've  brought  a  Christmas  for  you  to-day,  Mr.  Godfrey. 
It 's  Miss  Jenny's  doin',  and  I  don't  mind  tellin'  you  now, 
since  she's  left,  that  she  sat  up  the  biggest  part  of  a  night  to 
get  it  ready.  You  see,  sir,  when  I  brought  home  your  wes- 
kit,  o'  Wednesday,  to  fix  the  button,  I  said  it  would  n't  bear 
much  more  wearin',  and  you  ought,  by  rights,  to  git  y'rself 
a  new  one.  With  that  she  up  and  said  she  'd  like  to  make 
one  herself,  as  a  Christmas  for  you,  and  might  she  kape  it 
and  take  the  pattern.  So  she  bought  the  stuff  and  hoped 
you  'd  like  it,  and  indade  it 's  a  nate  piece  o'  wurrk,  as  you 
may  see." 

I  cast  scarcely  a  glance  at  the  waistcoat,  so  eager  was  I 
to  hear'what  had  become  of  Jane  Berry.  But  Mary  either 
could  not,  or  would  not,  give  me  any  satisfactory  news. 

"  When  I  come  home,  t'  other  evenin',''  she  said,  "  I  saw 
she  'd  been  cryin',  and  I  mistrusted  you  'd  been  havin'  a 
talk  with  her,  so  I  would  n't  add  to  her  trouble  by  any 
words  o'  my  own.  And  that  was  the  night  she  finished  the 
weskit.  So  next  mornin'  she  went  out  airly  and  I  did  n't 
see  her  till  nigh  noon,  when  she  had  her  things  ready  to 
laive.  Says  she,  '  Mary,  I  'm  goin'  away,  but  I  sha'  n't  for- 
git  you ; '  and  says  I,  '  Naither  will  I  forgit  you,  and  I  wish 
you  hearty  good  luck,  and  where  are  you  goin',  for  I  expect 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  415 

to  see  you  between  whiles ; '  —  but,  says  she,  *  It 's  best  you 
don't  come,'  and  '  I  '11  always  know  where  to  find  you,'  and 
so  she  went  off.  Sure  my  heart  ached  wi'  the  thought  of 
her,  and  it 's  ached  since,  along  o'  Hugh.  He  won't  be 
lieve  I  dunno  where  she  is,  and  glowers  at  me  like  a  wild 
baste,  and  .stays  away  o'  nights,  till  I  'm  fearful,  when 
there  's  the  laist  noise  in  the  house,  it  may  be  his  blessed 
body  brought  home  on  a  board." 

I  noticed,  now,  the  haggard,  anxious  expression  of  the 
Irishwoman's  face,  and  tried  to  encourage  her  with  the  as 
surance  that  Hugh  was  but  a  boy,  and  would  soon  forget 
his  disappointment.  But  she  clasped  her  hands  and 
sighed,  and  there  was  a  memory  of  Hugh's  father  in  her 
fixed  eyes. 

After  she  had  left  the  room,  I  picked  up  and  inspected 
the  present.  It  was  of  plain,  sober-colored  material,  but 
very  neatly  and  carefully  made.  I  turned  out  the  pockets 
and  examined  the  lining,  hoping  to  find  some  note  or  to 
ken  conveying  a  parting  message.  There  was  nothing, 
and  after  a  few  inquiries,  made  to  satisfy  my  remaining 
fragment  of  a  conscience,  I  gave  up  the  search  for  Jane 
Berry. 

During  the  holiday  week  another  incident  occurred,  — 
trifling  in  itself,  but  it  excited  a  temporary  interest  in  my 
mind.  I  had  possession  of  one  of  the  Oracle's  passes  to 
the  Opera,  and,  at  the  close  of  the  performance  was  slowly 
surging  out  through  the  lobby,  with  the  departing  crowd, 
when  a  familiar  female  voice,  just  in  front  of  me,  said,  — 

"  But  you  men  are  such  flatterers,  —  all  of  you." 

"  Present  company  excepted,"  replied  another  familiar 
voice,  with  a  coarse,  silly  laugh. 

If  the  thick  coils  of  black  hair,  dropping  pomegranate 
blossoms,  had  not  revealed  to  me  the  lady,  the  flirt  of  a 
scarlet  fan  over  her  olive  shoulder  made  the  recognition 
sure.  It  was  Miss  Levi,  of  course,  leaning  on  the  arm  of 
—  could  I  believe  my  eyes  ?  —  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd.  I  kept 


416  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

as  close  to  the  pair  as  possible,  without  running  the  risk 
of  being  recognized,  and  cocked  my  ear  to  entrap  more  of 
their  conversation.  Eavesdropping  in  a  crowd,  I  believe, 
is  not  dishonorable. 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  hear  music,  under  the  guidance  of 
such  an  exquisite  taste  as  yours"  remarked  Miss  Levi. 

"Ah,  you  think  I  know  something  about  it,  then  ?  "  said 
her  companion.  "  Deuced  glad  to  hear  it ;  Bell  always 
used  to  snub  me,  —  but  a  fellow  may  know  as  much  as  other 
people,  without  trying  to  show  off  all  the  time." 

"  Certainly  ;  that  is  my  idea  of  what  a  gentleman  should 
be,  —  but  how  few  such  we  meet ! "  Her  voice  was  low 
and  insinuating,  and  the  pomegranate  blossoms  bent 
towards  his  shoulder.  I  knew,  as  well  as  if  I  had  stood 
before  them,  that  all  the  power  of  her  eyes  was  thrown 
upon  his  face.  I  could  see  the  bit  of  his  neck  behind  his 
whisker  grow  red  with  pleasure,  as  he  straightened  his 
head  and  stroked  his  moustache. 

•  There  was  a  puff  of  cold  air  from  the  outer  door,  and 
she  drew  up  the  hood  of  her  cloak.  Somehow,  it  would 
catch  in  the  wilderness  of  hair  and  flowers,  and  his  assist 
ance  was  required  to  adjust  it  to  her  head.  Then  they 
scuttled  into  the  street,  in  a  high  state  of  mutual  good- 
humor. 

Is  it  possible,  I  asked  myself,  that  he  has  been  caught  in 
the  trap  he  laid  for  me  ?  If  so,  I  can  afford  to  forgive  him. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  417 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

WHICH    SHOWS    WHAT    I    BECAME. 

THE  reader  may  suppose  that  the  part  of  my  history 
most  difficult  to  relate  has  already  been  written.  If  so, 
he  is  mistaken.  It  is  easier  to  speak  of  an  evil  impulse 
which  has  been  frustrated,  than  of  a  more  venial  fault  which 
has  actually  been  committed.  Nay,  I  will  go  further,  and 
state  a  fact  which  seems  both  inconsistent  and  unjust,  — 
that  the  degree  of  our  repentance  for  our  sins  is  not  meas 
ured  by  the  extent  to  which  they  violate  our  own  accepted 
standard  of  morals.  An  act  which  springs  from  some  sug 
gestion  of  cowardly  meanness  by  which  we  may  be  sur 
prised,  often  troubles  us  far  more  than  an  act  due  to  bold, 
rampant,  selfish  appetite,  though  the  consequences  of  the 
latter  may  be,  beyond  comparison,  more  unfortunate  to 
ourselves  and  to  others.  There  is  in  most  men  an  abstract 
idea  of  manhood,  —  whether  natural  or  conventional  I  will 
not  here  discuss,  —  which  has  its  separate  conscience, 
generally,  but  not  always,  working  side  by  side  with  the 
religious  principle.  There  are  fortunate  beings  in  whom 
the  circumstances  of  life  have  never  separated  these  dis 
tinct  elements,  —  and  such,  alas  !  will  not  understand  me. 
Perhaps  the  record  I  now  set  down  against  myself  will 
make  the  matter  more  intelligible. 

My  circle  of  associates  having  become  gradually  nar 
rowed  down  to  Brandagee  and  his  Oracular  corps,  with 
a  few  other  habitues  of  the  Ichneumon,  who  were  not 
connected  with  the  paper,  —  Swansford  being  almost  the 
only  old  friend  whom  I  cared  to  meet,  —  my  life  naturally 
27 


418  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

took  on,  more  and  more,  a  reckless,  vagabondizing  char 
acter.  The  want  of  a  basis  of  Faith,  Patience,  and  Reso 
lution,  expressed  itself  in  the  commonest  details  of  daily 
life.  Mrs.  De  Peyster's  respectable  dinner  company  bored 
me  to  death  ;  even  the  dishes  wore  the  commonplace 
aspect  of  wholesome,  insipid  propriety.  My  stomach,  like 
my  brain,  craved  variety,  piquancy,  and  excitement ;  health 
was  a  secondary  consideration.  I  ceased  to  make  any 
computation  of  my  earnings  and  to  guage  my  expenses 
accordingly.  One  day  I  would  invite  Brandagee  or  Smith- 
ers  to  some  restaurant  with  a  foreign  carte  and  a  list  of 
cheap  wines,  and  the  next,  perhaps,  content  myself  with  a 
lunch  of  black  bread,  Limburg  cheese,  and  lager-beer.  So 
long  as  I  had  company,  the  hours  passed  away  rapidly, 
and  with  a  careless,  rollicking  sense  of  enjoyment,  but  I 
shrank  from  being  left  face  to  face  with  the  emptiness 
of  my  life. 

With  regard  to  my  support,  I  was  sufficiently  assured. 
The  ten  weekly  dollars  of  G.  Jenks  were  punctually  forth 
coming,  since  the  taste  for  scrappy,  make-believe  philoso 
phy  had  not  yet  abated,  and  I  also  took  to  writing  bilious, 
semi-mysterious  stories,  after  the  manner  of  Hoffman. 
The  prospects  of  the  Oracle  were  variable  for  the  first 
few  weeks:  it  attracted  enough  attention  to  keep  up  our 
hopes,  and  paid  poorly  enough  to  disappoint  them.  But, 
in  one  way  or  another,  my  income  averaged  twenty-five 
dollars  a  week,  all  of  which  went  as  fast  as  it  came. 
When  there  was  a  temporary  falling-off,  Miles  was  ready 
enough  to  give  me  credit,  —  an  accommodation  which  I 
found  so  convenient  and  used  so  frequently  that  there 
soon  came  a  day  when  the  very  slender  hoard  I  had 
spared  was  exhausted,  and  my  bill  fora  fortnight's  board 
in  Bleecker  Street  still  unpaid. 

The  evening  on  which  I  made  this  discovery,  there  hap 
pened  to  be  an  unusually  large  and  jovial  party  in  the 
Cave.  I  was  in  little  humor  for  festivity :  the  recollection 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  419 

of  Mrs.  De  Peyster's  keen,  suspicious  glance,  as  she  passed 
me  on  the  stairs  that  afternoon,  made  me  feel  very  uncom 
fortable,  and  I  resolved  to  deny  myself  some  indulgences 
which  had  grown  to  be  almost  indispensable,  rather  than 
encounter  it  a  second  time.  Hitherto  I  had  played  some 
thing  of  an  ostentatious  part  among  my  comrades,  —  had 
been  congratulated  on  the  evidences  of  my  success,  —  and 
it  was  hard  to  confess  that  the  part  was  now  played  out, 
and  the  sham  velvet  and  tinsel  spangles  laid  aside.  I  slunk 
into  a  corner  and  tried  to  appear  occupied  with  a  news 
paper  ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  Brandagee  scented  my 
depression. 

"  Hallo,  Godfrey,  what 's  the  matter  ? "  he  cried,  slap 
ping  me  on  the  shoulder.  "  Ha !  do  I  read  the  signs 
aright  ?  Thou  hast  met  the  Dweller  of  the  Threshold  ! " 

I  did  not  care  to  bandy  burlesque  expressions  with  him, 
and  was  too  listless  to  defend  myself  from  his  probing  eye ; 
so  I  took  him  aside  and  told  him  my  difficulty. 

"  Pshaw  !  "  said  he,  "  you  are  too  innocent  for  this  world. 
If  I  had  the  money  I  'd  lend  it  to  you  at  once,  since  you  're 
so  eager  to  feed  the  vultures ;  but  I  had  the  devil's  own 
luck  at  vingt-et-un  last  night.  Go  to  Jenks  or  Babcock, 
and  get  an  advance  ;  it 's  what  every  fellow  is  forced  to  do 
sometimes.  Meanwhile,  Miles  will  chalk  your  back  for  all 
you  want  to-night.  Come,  don't  spoil  the  fun :  that  idea 
we  developed  last  week  was  worth  a  hundred  dollars,  Bab- 
coek  says.  Two  or  three  more  such,  and  the  Oracle  is  a 
made  paper." 

The  "  idea "  of  which  he  spoke  was  neither  more  nor 
less  than  a  minute  description  of  the  costumes  of  various 
ladies  at  a  grand  private  ball  in  Fifth  Avenue,  to  which 
Brandagee  had  procured  an  invitation.  It  was  written 
with  a  great  apparent  familiarity  with  the  subject,  and  a 
reference  to  the  dresses  of  the  ladies  of  the  Parisian 
noblesse,  in  a  style  breathing  at  once  flattery  and  admo 
nition.  "  You  have  done  very  well,  this  time,"  it  seemed 


420  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

to  say,  "  but  take  care,  —  I  know  all  about  it,  and  am  on 
the  look  out  for  mistakes."  Its  publication  was  followed 
by  greatly  increased  orders  for  The  Oracle  from  up-town 
bookstores  and  newspaper  stands.  The  musical  criticisms, 
though  much  more  cleverly  done,  failed  to  make  anything 
like  an  equal  sensation. 

I  succumbed  to  Brandagee's  mingled  raillery  and  per 
suasion,  and  entered  my  name  on  Miles's  books.  The 
circle  joyfully  opened  to  receive  me,  and  in  five  minutes 

—  so  powerful    is  the  magnetism  of  such  company  —  no 
one  was  gayer  and  more  reckless  than  I.      We  fell  into 
discussing  new  devices  for  attracting  attention  to  the  paper, 

—  some  serious,  some  ironical,  but  all  more  or  less  shrewd 
and  humorous.     In  fact,  I  have  often  thought,  since  those 
days,  that  a  keen,  wide-awake,  practical  man  might  have 
found,  almost  any  evening,  the  germ  of  a  successful  enter 
prise    among   the    random    suggestions    and   speculations 
which  we  threw  together. 

"  One  thing  is  wanting  yet,"  said  Smithers,  "  and  I  'm 
a  little  surprised  that  it  has  n't  occurred  to  you,  Bran- 
dagee." 

"  Speak,  Behemoth  !  "  exclaimed  the  latter. 

"  Abuse.  Not  in  a  general  way,  —  but  personal.  Take 
some  well-known  individual,  —  merchant,  author,  artist,  pol 
itician,  —  it  makes  no  difference,  —  and  prick  him  deep 
enough  to  make  him  cry  out.  His  enemies  will  all  want 
to  read  the  attack,  in  order  to  enjoy  it,  and  his  friends,  out 
of  a  sympathetic  curiosity.  Men  are  made  fools  through 
the  morbid  sensitiveness  which  follows  culture ;  their  epi 
dermis  is  as  thin  as  the  lining  of  an  egg-shell.  Take 
the  strong,  working-classes  with  their  tanned,  leathery 
hide  "  - 

"  Stop,  there !  "  Brandagee  interrupted.  "  I  've  got  your 
suggestion,  and  we  can  dispense  with  your  'longshoremen. 
I  have  thought  of  the  matter,  but  Babcock  is  fidgety. 
One's  pen  must  be  split  to  a  hair,  in  order  to  sting  and 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  421 

tickle  just  up  to  the  edge  of  a  personal  assault  or  a  libel 
suit,  and  not  go  over  the  line.  I  'd  like  to  see  you  try  it, 
Smithers,  with  a  nib  as  broad  as  your  foot.  I  rather  think 
you  'd  have  a  chance  of  finding  out  the  thickness  of  your 
epidermis." 

Nevertheless,  it  was  the  general  opinion  that  the  propo 
sition  was  worth  considering.  Several  individuals  even 
were  suggested  as  appropriate  subjects,  but  on  Brandagee 
hinting  that  the  suggester  should  first  try  his  hand,  the 
enthusiasm  cooled  very  suddenly.  Finally,  it  was  decided 
to  hold  the  plan  in  reserve. 

"  But,"  said  Brandagee,  "  we  must  fix  on  some  expedient. 
Heavens  and  earth !  is  all  our  inventive  talent  exhausted  ? 
We  might  find  a  new  poet,  of  wonderful  promise,  or  a 
pert  female  correspondent,  with  an  alliterative  horticultural 
name,  such  as  Helen  Honeysuckle  or  Belinda  Boneset,  but 
I  don't  know  which  of  you  could  keep  up  the  part  suc 
cessfully,  and  my  hands  are  full.  Then  we  must  have  a 
department  of  "  Answers  to  Correspondents,"  at  least  two 
columns  long ;  replies  to  imaginary  queries  on  every  sub 
ject  under  the  Zodiac,  —  love,  medicine,  history,  eclipses, 
cookery,  Marie  Stuart,  and  Billy  Patterson.  You  fellows 
might  do  that  while  you  are  loafing  here.  There  is  nothing 
in  the  world  easier  to  do,  as  for  instance :  '  Rosalie,  —  If 
the  young  gentleman,  after  picking  up  your  pocket-hand 
kerchief,  put  it  into  his  own  pocket  instead  of  returning 
it  to  you,  we  should  interpret  the  act  as  a  sign  of  attach 
ment.  Should  you  desire  a  further  test,  ask  him  for  it, 
and  if  he  blushes,  he  is  yours.' " 

This  suggestion  met  with  great  applause.  We  all  went 
to  work,  and  in  the  course  of  an  hour  concocted  a  number 
of  answers.  The  reporter  of  the  Avenger,  who  was  accus 
tomed  to  manufacture  correspondence  from  various  parts 
of  the  world,  was  called  upon  to  write  letters  from  Boston 
and  Philadelphia,  describing  the  sensation  which  the  Oracle 
had  produced  in  those  cities ;  and  by  midnight,  at  which 


422  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

hour  the  atmosphere  of  the  Cave  was  usually  opaque,  and 
the  tongues  of  some  of  its  occupants  incoherent,  we  were 
all  assured  of  the  speedy  triumph  of  our  scheme. 

I  woke  late  next  morning  to  an  uncomfortable  sense  of 
my  empty  pockets.  The  excitement  of  the  previous  even 
ing  was  followed  by  a  corresponding  depression,  and  I  had 
no  courage  to  face  Mrs.  De  Peyster.  I  did  not  go  down  to 
breakfast,  but  waited  until  I  felt  sure  that  she  would  be 
occupied  by  the  supervision  of  her  household,  and  then 
quietly  slipped  out  of  the  house. 

There  was  no  alternative  but  to  adopt  Brandagee's  hint 
and  solicit  an  advance  from  either  Mr.  Babcock  or  Mr. 
Jenks.  The  former  gentleman  being  the  more  cultivated 
of  the  two,  although  I  had  had  but  little  personal  intercourse 
with  him,  he  received  my  first  visit.  I  proffered  my  re 
quest  with  a  disgusting  presentiment  that  it  would  be  re 
fused,  —  and  the  event  proved  that  I  was  correct.  It  would 
be  a  violation  of  his  business-habits,  he  said :  still,  if  I 
were  in  immediate  want  of  the  sum,  he  might  make  an 
exception,  if  Mr.  Brandagee  had  not  just  obtained  an  ad 
vance  of  fifty  dollars !  Since  the  paper  could  not  yet  be 
considered  firmly  established,  he  did  not  feel  himself  justi 
fied  in  anticipating  the  outlay  to  any  further  extent. 

I  now  wended  my  way  to  the  office  of  Mr.  Jenks,  and, 
knowing  the  man,  put  on  a  bolder  face.  It  was  not  pleasant 
to  ask  a  favor  of  him,  but  I  could  offer  him  security  in  the 
shape  of  articles  ;  it  would  be  simply  anticipating  the  sums 
f  which  would  afterwards  be  due.  After  a  good  deal  of 
hesitation,  he  consented,  and  I  thus  regained  my  good 
standing  with  Mrs.  De  Peyster,  by  cutting  off  a  part  of 
my  future  income.  In  the  mean  time,  however,  I  had  laid 
the  basis  of  a  new  account  with  Miles,  and  thus  commenced 
a  see-saw  of  debt  which  kept  me  in  continual  agitation. 
When  I  was  up  on  one  side,  I  was  down  on  the  other,  and 
each  payment  simply  shifted  my  position.  The  disagreeable 
novelty  of  the  experience  soon  wore  off,  and  the  shifts  and 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  423 

manoeuvres  which  at  first  were  so  repulsive  became  endur 
able  from  habit.  When,  after  days  of  incessant  worry, 
money  came  into  my  hands,  I  could  not  deny  myself  some 
coveted  indulgence  as  a  compensation.  The  former  justi 
fied  the  latter,  and  the  latter  brought  the  former  again  into 
play. 

I  became,  after  a  time,  subject  to  extreme  fluctuations 
of  feeling.  In  moments  of  excitement,  I  experienced  an 
exaltation  t)f  spirits,  in  which  my  difficulties  and  disappoint 
ments  ceased  to  exist.  I  was  elevated  above  the  judgment 
of  my  fellow-men ;  I  had  courage  to  kick  aside  the  tram 
mels  which'  inclosed  them,  and  to  taste  a  freedom  which 
they  were  incompetent  to  enjoy.  This  condition  was  a 
substitute  for  happiness,  which  I  mistook  for  the  genuine 
article  ;  I  clung  to  it  desperately  when  I  felt  the  light  fading 
and  the  colors  growing  dull,  and  the  gray,  blank  fog  drop 
ping  down  from  the  sky.  Then  succeeded  the  state  of 
aimless  apathy,  when  my  days  seemed  weighted  with  a 
weariness  beyond  my  strength  to  bear.  I  could  not  fill  the 
void  space  in  my  heart,  once  glowing  with  the  security  of 
Faith  and  the  brightness  of  Love.  I  spread  my  coveted 
sense  of  Freedom  over  the  gulf,  but  it  would  not  be  hidden ; 
I  dropped  into  it  every  indulged  delight  of  appetite,  only 
to  hear  a  hollower  clang.  My  principal  satisfaction  —  or 
what  seemed  such  —  was  in  the  belief  that  other  men 
differed  from  myself  only  in  hypocrisy,  —  outwardly  ap 
pearing  to  obey  laws  they  scoffed,  and  carefully  concealing 
their  secret  trespasses. 

But  little  more  than  two  months  had  elapsed  before  I 
was  forced  into  the  conviction  that  my  prospects  were  be 
coming  precarious.  The  sales  of  the  Oracle  began  to  fall 
off;  the  paper  was  diminished  in  size,  in  order  to  reduce 
expenses,  while  professing  (editorially)  to  be  swimming 
along  on  a  flood-tide  of  success,  and  the  remuneration  for 
my  articles  not  only  diminished  in  proportion,  but  was  re 
luctantly  paid.  The  final  resource  of  personal  abuse  had 


424  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

been  tried,  and  Brandagee  must  have  been  mistaken  in  the 
fine  quality  of  his  pen,  for  the  immediate  result  was  a  libel 
suit,  which  so  frightened  Mr.  Babcock  that  he  insisted  on 
avoiding  it  by  retraction  and  apology.  I  had  enough  of 
experience  to  know  that  this  was  the  death-knell  of  the 
enterprise,  and  was  not  deceived  (neither  was  Brandagee, 
I  think)  by  the  galvanic  imitation  of  life  which  remained. 

About  the  same  time  my  see-saw  became  so  delicately 
poised  that  I  lost  my  balance.  My  debt  to  Mrs.  De  Pey- 
ster  had  again  accumulated ;  her  eyes  were  not  only  coldly 
suspicious,  but  her  tongue  dropped  hints  which  made  me 
both  angry  and  ashamed.  I  determined  to  leave  her  house 
as  soon  as  it  was  possible  to  settle  the  account ;  but  it  was 
not  possible,  and,  utterly  unable  to  endure  my  situation, 
I  put  a  single  shirt  and  my  toilet  articles  into  my  pocket, 
and  leaving  the  rest  of  my  effects  behind,  walked  away. 
There  was  a  miserable  attic,  miserably  furnished,  in  Crosby 
Street,  not  far  from  the  Ichneumon,  to  be  had  for  five  dol 
lars  a  month,  paid  in  advance.  This  was  cheap  enough, 
provided  I  could  raise  the  five  dollars.  I  remembered  my 
loan  of  that  amount  to  Brandagee,  and  asked  him  to  return 
it. 

"*My  dear  fellow,"  said  he,  "  I  thought  you  understood 
that  I  never  pay  a  loan.  It  would  be  ridiculous  to  contra 
dict  my  principles  in  that  way." 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  lend  me  the  same  amount." 

"  Ah,  you  put  the  matter  in  a  more  sensible  form.  I  '11 
lend  you  five,  or  five  hundred,  as  soon  as  I  get  it ;  but  be 
hold  ! " 

He  turned  his  pockets  inside  out. 

I  plainly  told  him  what  I  had  done,  and  that  I  was  now 
without  a  penny  to  buy  a  meal  or  pay  for  a  lodging. 

"  That  's  rather  a  bore,"  said  he,  coolly,  "  the  first  time 
you  try  it  —  but  one  gets  used  to  it,  like  anything  else. 
It 's  a  seasoning  that  will  do  you  no  harm,  Godfrey  ;  I  Ve 
been  ground  in  that  mill  a  dozen  times,  I  presume.  It 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  425 

would  amuse  you  to  hear  of  some  of  the  dodges  I  've  been 
up  to.  Did  I  ever  tell  you  about  that  time  in  Rome  ?  " 

I  would  not  stop  to  hear  his  story,  but  left  in  a  high  state 
of  exasperation.  There  remained  one  friend,  who  would 
help  me  if  he  could,  though  he  straitened  himself  thereby. 
I  had  not  seen  him  for  some  weeks,  and  felt,  I  am  glad  to 
say,  a  good  deal  of  shame  at  seeking  him  now  only  to  make 
use  of  him. .  I  hurried  across  to  Hester  Street,  and  was 
about  to  ring  the  bell  at  Mrs.  Very's  door  when  it  opened 
and  he  came  out.  I  was  shocked  to  see  how  his  eyes  had 
sunk  and  how  hollow  and  transparent  his  cheeks  had  grown ; 
but  something  of  the  old  brightness  returned  when  he  saw 
me,  and  his  voice  had  the  old  tone  as  he  said,  — 

"  I  was  afraid  you  had  forgotten  me,  Godfrey." 

"  I  have  only  been  busy,  Swansford,  but  I  mean  to  make 
up  for  my  neglect.  You  '11  think  I  take  a  strange  way  of 
doing  it  to-day,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  come  for  help." 

"  And  you  so  much  stronger  than  I  ?  " 

"  Not  half  so  strong,  Swansford.  Here,  in  this  pocket 
over  the  heart,  and  in  all  the  others,  animation  is  suspended. 
Can  you  lend  me  ten  dollars  for  a  day  or  two  ?  " 

I  had  known  of  his  more  than  once  sending  that  amount 
to  his  mother  or  sister,  and  supposed  that  he  might  have 
it  on  hftnd.  The  delay  of  a  day  or  two,  until  I  should  re 
pay  him,  would  make  little  difference. 

"  I  can,"  said  he,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  "  but  it  will 
take  about  all  I  have.  However,  I  can  get  along  for  two 
days  —  or  three  —  without  it.  I  hope  you  have  not  been 
unfortunate,  Godfrey  ?  " 

Swansford  had  thought  me  wrong  in  giving  up  my  situa 
tion  in  the  Wonder  office,  and  all  my  assurances  of  plentiful 
earnings  afterwards  had  not  reconciled  him  to  the  step. 
My  present  application  seemed  to  justify  his  doubt,  and 
this  thought,  I  fancied,  prompted  his  question.  Not  yet, 
however,  could  I  confess-  to  him  —  since  I  stubbornly  re 
fused  to  confess  to  myself — the  mistake  I  had  made. 


426  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  Oh,  no,"  I  said,  assuming  a  gay,  careless  air.  "  I  have 
been  lending,  too,  and  find  myself  unexpectedly  short.  In 
a  day  or  two  I  shall  be  all  right  again." 

Dear  old  fellow  —  how  relieved  he  looked  !  I  tried  to 
persuade  myself,  for  his  sake,  that  I  had  spoken  the  truth ; 
and,  indeed,  a  little  effort  placed  my  condition  in  a  much 
less  gloomy  light.  My  expenses,  I  reasoned,  would  now  be 
reduced  to  the  minimum  ;  half  the  sum  would  give  me 
lodging  for  a  month,  and  the  remaining  half  would  supply 
me  with  food  for  a  fortnight,  in  which  time  I  could  earn, 
not  only  enough  to  repay  the  loan  but  to  relieve  me  from  the 
necessity  of  making  another.  It  would  be  necessary,  how 
ever,  to  give  up  my  dissipated  way  of  life,  and  this  I  virtu 
ously  resolved  to  do  —  for  a  few  weeks. 

Swansford  was  on  his  way  to  give  a  music-lesson  in  Rut 
gers  Street,  but  first  went  back  to  his  room  to  get  the  money. 
I  accompanied  him,  and  could  not  help  noticing  how  ex 
hausted  he  appeared  after  mounting  the  last  flight  of  steps. 
He  dropped  into  a  chair,  panting ;  then,  seeing  my  anxious 
look,  said  in  a  feeble  voice,  — 

"  It 's  nothing,  Godfrey.  I  've  been  working  a  little  too 
hard  this  winter.  The  symphony,  you  know,  —  it  's  nearly 
finished,  and  I  can't  rest,  now,  until  I  've  written  the  last  bar. 
I  wish  I  had  time  to  play  it  to  you."  • 

"  You  shall  let  me  have  the  whole  of  it,  Swansford. 
And  I  '11  bring  Brandagee,  who  must  write  an  article  about 
it.  He  is  always  on  the  lookout  for  something  new,  and  no 
body  better  understands  how  to  make  a  sensation.  You  '11 
be  a  famous  man  before  you  're  six  months  older  !  " 

A  quick,  bright  spark  flashed  from  his  eyes,  but  instantly 
faded,  leaving  a  faint,  sad  smile  behind  it.  He  sighed  and 
murmured  to  himself,  "  I  don't  know."  Then  he  gave  me 
the  money.  I  felt  my  hand  trembling  as  I  took  it,  but  this 
might  have  been  the  faintness  of  hunger.  I  had  eaten 
nothing  for  twenty-four  hours. 

On  reaching  the  Bowery,  I  went  into  the  first  cellar  and 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  427 

strengthened  myself  with  a  beafsteak  and  a  bottle  of  ale. 
Then  I  secured  the  attic  for  a  month,  purchased  writing 
materials  and  sat  down  with  the  firm  resolution  to  complete 
a  sensational  story  before  allowing  myself  a  moment's  pause, 
except  for  sleep.  It  was  a  dark,  raw  day  of  early  March  ; 
there  was  no  fire  in  the  shabby  room,  and  the  dull  daylight 
became  almost  dusk  after  passing  through  the  unwashed 
panes.  I  had  no  table,  but  the  rickety  wash-stand  would 
answer  the  purpose,  and  there  was  a  single  wooden  chair. 
The  meat  and  drink  had  warmed  me,  and  thus,  with  my 
over-coat  on  my  back,  and  the  ragged  bed-quilt,  breaking 
out  in  spots  of  cotton  eruption,  over  my  knees,  I  commenced 
the  work  with  a  tolerable  stock  of  courage.  My  subject 
was  of  the  ghastly  order,  and  admitted  of  an  extravagant 
treatment,  for  which  I  was  in  the  most  congenial  mood. 
Page  after  page  of  manuscript  was  written  and  cast  aside, 
until  the  pen  dropped  from  my  benumbed  fingers,  and  the 
chill  from  my  icy  feet  crept  up  my  legs  and  sent  shudders 
through  my  body. 

It  was  now  dusk  outside,  and  would  soon  be  darkness 
within.  The  sense  of  my  forlorn,  wretched  condition  re 
turned  upon  me,  and  the  image  of  the  Cave,  with  its  com 
fortable  warmth  and  its  supply  of  mental  and  physical 
stimulus,  came  to  tempt  me  away.  But  no,  for  Swansford's 
sake  I  would  renounce  even  this  indulgence.  I  would  go 
out  and  walk  the  streets,  to  thaw  my  frozen  blood,  and  ar 
range,  in  my  brain,  the  remainder  of  my  task. 

How  long  I  walked  I  cannot  tell.  I  have  an  impression 
of  having  three  times  heard  the  wind  sweeping  through 
the  leafless  trees  on  the  Battery,  and  as  often  through  the 
trees  in  Union  Square ;  but  my  mind  was  so  concentrated 
upon  the  wild,  morbid  details  of  my  story  that  they  held  it 
fast  when  I  had  grown  weary  of  the  subject,  and  would 
gladly  have  escaped  it.  Then  I  went  to  bed,  to  start  a»d 
toss  all  night  in  that  excited  condition  which  resembles  de 
lirium  rather  than  sleep,  and  leaves  exhaustion  instead  of 
refreshment  behind  it. 


428  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

By  noon  the  next  day  the  task  was  completed,  and  I  left 
it  in  the  hands  of  the  editor  of  a  popular  magazine  in 
which  a  few  of  my  sketches  had  already  appeared.  I 
should  have  to  wait  a  day  or  two  for  his  decision  ;  my 
brain,  fagged  by  the  strain  upon  it,  refused  to  suggest  a 
new  theme,  and  yet  my  time  was  a  blank  which  must  be 
somehow  filled.  The  flame  of  my  good  resolution  burned 
lower  and  lower,  —  gave  a  final  convulsive  flicker  as  I 
passed  the  door  of  the  Ichneumon,  —  went  out,  and  I 
turned  back  and  entered.  Did  I  think  of  Swansford  as 
the  door  closed  behind  me  ?  Alas  !  I  fear  not.  I  only  felt 
the  warm  atmosphere  envelop  me  like  a  protecting  mantle ; 
I  only  heard,  in  the  jovial  voices  which  welcomed  my  com 
ing,  release  from  the  loneliness  I  could  no  longer  endure. 

The  season  of  late,  bitter  cold  which  followed  seemed, 
like  a  Nemesis,  to  drive  me  back  upon  my  vagabond  life, 
and  every  other  circumstance  combined  to  fasten  me  in  its 
meshes.  By  the  time  the  editor  had  decided  to  accept  my 
story,  the  sum  I  received  for  it  was  balanced  by  Miles's  bill. 
He  knew  as  well  when  there  was  money  in  my  pocket  as  if 
he  had  counted  it,  and  a  refusal  to  pay  would  have  shut  me 
out  from  my  only  place  of  refuge.  Jenks  would  no  longer 
advance  upon  my  articles,  but  began  to  hint  that  they  now 
ceased  to  meet  the  popular  taste.  He  thought  of  engaging 
one  of  the  comic  writers,  whose  misspelled  epistles  were  in 
great  demand,  at  a  hundred  dollars  a  week ;  it  would  pay 
better  than  ten  for  mine,  —  there  was  too  much  "  cut  and 
slash  "  in  the  latter.  I  saw  what  was  coming. 

Brandagee  —  against  whose  avowed  selfishness,  backed 
as  it  was  by  his  powers  of  raillery,  my  indignation  could 
not  maintain  itself — furnished  me,  now  and  then,  with  a 
morsel  of  occupation.  But  what  an  occupation  it  was  for 
one  who,  three  years  before,  had  determined  to  write  his 
n^me  among  the  laurelled  bards !  I  was  to  furnish  poetic 
advertisements  for  the  manufacturer  of  a  new  dentifrice ! 
Once  the  imagined  brother  of  Irving,  Bryant,  and  Longfel- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  429 

low,  I  now  found  myself  the  rival  of  Napoleon  B.  Quigg 
and  Julia  Carey  Reinhardt !  I  had  reached,  indeed,  the 
lowest  pit  of  literature,  —  but,  no !  there  is  a  crypt  under 
this,  whose  workers  are  unknown  and  whose  works  hide 
themselves  in  "  sealed  envelopes."  Let  that  be  a  comfort 
to  me! 

I  could  not  think  of  the  manner  in  which  I  had  sneaked 
away  from  Mrs.  De  Peyster,  and  deceived  Swansford,  with 
out  a  pang  of  self-contempt.  It  has  cost  me  no  little  effort 
to  record  my  own  humiliation,  but  I  dare  not  mutilate  the 
story  of  my  fortunes.  If  the  pure,  unselfish  aspirations  of 
my  early  youth  had  been  allowed  to  realize  themselves  in 
one  smooth,  unchecked  flow  of  prosperity,  I  should  have  no 
story  to  relate.  In  an  artistic  sense  I  am  my  own  hero,  — 
but,— 

"  What  I  seem  to  myself,  do  you  ask  of  me  ? 
No  hero,  I  confess." 
V 


430  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

IN    WHICH    I    HEAR    FOOTSTEPS. 

IF  the  manner  of  life  I  have  just  described  had  come 
upon  me  naturally,  through  some  radical  deficiency  of  prin 
ciple,  I  should  have  carelessly  and  easily  adapted  myself  to 
it.  I  have  known  men  who  were  always  cheerful  under 
similar  embarrassments,  and  who  enjoyed  as  well  as  ad 
mired  the  adroitness  of  their  expedients  of  relief.  Such  are 
the  true  Zingari  of  a  high  civilization,  who  pitch  the  tent, 
light  the  camp-fire,  and  plunder  the  hen-roost,  in  the  midst 
of  great  cities.  They  are  born  with  the  brown  blood  in 
their  veins,  and  are  drawn  together  by  its  lawless  instinct. 

I,  however,  had  been  pushed  out  of  that  sphere  of  order 
in  which  my  nature  properly  belonged,  partly  by  the  shock 
of  cruel  disappointments  and  partly  by  the  revolt  of  appe 
tites  common  to  every  young  man  whose  blood  is  warm  and 
whose  imagination  is  lively.  When  the  keen  edge  of  the 
former  and  the  rampant  exultation  of  the  latter  began  to 
be  dulled,  there  was  no  satisfaction  left  to  me,  except  in 
forgetfulness  of  my  former  self.  I  heard,  from  time  to  time, 
the  whispers  of  duty  and  the  groans  of  conscience,  and  felt 
that  if  the  two  antagonistic  powers  within  me  were  allowed 
to  come  together  in  a  fresh  struggle,  the  result  would  be  — 
Despair.  With  my  present  knowledge  I  see  that  such  a 
struggle  was  inevitable,  —  that  a  crisis  was  embraced  in  the 
very  nature  of  my  disease,  —  but  then  I  only  craved  peace, 
and  eagerly  swallowed  every  moral  narcotic  which  promised 
to  bring  it. 

There  were  already  symptoms  of  Spring,  when  my  month 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  431 

in  the  attic  drew  to  an  end.  Days  of  perfect  sunshine  and 
delicious  air  fell  upon  the  city,  mellowing  its  roaring  noises, 
softening  into  lilac  and  violet  the  red  vistas  of  its  streets, 
touching  its  marbles  with  golden  gleams,  and  coaxing  the 
quick  emerald  of  the  grass  to  its  scattered  squares.  Most 
unhappy  were  such  days  to  me,  for  the  tender  prophecies 
of  the  season  forced  my*  thoughts  to  the  future,  and  into 
that  blank  I  could  not  look  without  dismay. 

By  this  time  my  condition  was  indeed  wretched.  My 
single  suit  of  clothes  grew  shabby  from  constant  wear,  and 
my  two  shirts,  even  with  the  aid  of  paper-collars,  failed  to 
meet  the  requirements  of  decency.  I  had  previously  been 
scrupulously  neat  in  my  dress,  but  now  I  was  more  than 
slovenly,  and  I  saw  the  reflection  of  this  change  in  the 
manners  of  my  associates.  My  degradation  expressed  it 
self  in  my  garments,  and  covered  me  from  head  to  foot, 
touching  the  surface  of  my  nature  in  every  point  as  they 
touched  my  skin. 

For  another  month's  rent  of  my  lodging  I  depended  on 
the  six  dollars  which  I  was  to  receive  for  three  poems  in 
spired  by  the  new  dentrifice.  The  arrangement  with  the 
proprietor  of  this  article  had  been  made  by  Brandagee,  who 
stated  that  he  had  a  contract  for  furnishing  the  literature. 
He  took  to  himself  some  credit  for  allowing  me  a  portion 
of  the  work.  I  was  anxious  to  meet  him  before  evening, 
as  Miles  had  a  bill  of  some  two  dollars  against  me,  and  the 
most  important  debt  must  be  first  paid ;  but  I  visited  all 
of  Brandagee's  usual  haunts  in  vain.  Tired  at  last,  and 
quite  desperate,  I  betook  myself  to  the  Cave  and  awaited 
his  coming. 

Any  combination  of  circumstances  which  one  specially 
fears,  is  almost  sure  to  occur.  My  account  at  the  Ichneu 
mon  was  settled,  as  I  had  anticipated,  and  there  was  not 
enough  left  for  the  advance  on  my  lodgings.  Brandagee 
was  in  an  ill-humor,  and  paid  no  attention  to  my  excited 
representations  of  my  condition. 


432  JOHN  GODFREY'S  -FORTUNES. 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Godfrey  !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  it 's  ridicu 
lous  to  make  a  fuss  about  such  trifles  when  one  of  the 
best-planned  schemes  ever  set  a-foot  is  frustrated.  Do 
you  know  that  the  Oracle  is  laid  out,  stark  and  stiff?  The 
next  number  will  be  the  last,  and  I  Ve  a  mind  to  leave  one 
side  blank,  as  a  decent  shroud  to  spread  over  its  corpse. 
Babcock  swears  he  's  sunk  three  thousand  dollars,  as  if  a 
paper  must  n't  always  sink  five  in  the  beginning  to  gain 
twenty-five  in  the  end !  If  he  had  kept  it  up  one  year,  as 
I  insisted  upon  his  doing,  it  would  have  proved  a  fortune 
for  him  and  all  of  us." 

I  was  not  surprised  at  this  announcement,  nor  was  I  par 
ticularly  grieved,  since  the  emoluments  promised  to  me  at 
the  start  had  never  been  forthcoming.  After  a  few  pota 
tions,  Brandagee  recovered  his  spirits,  and  made  merry 
over  the  demise  of  his  great  scheme.  He  proposed  sub 
stituting  the  title  of  "  Catacombs "  for  the  Cave  of  Tro- 
phonius,  and  declared  his  intention  of  having  a  funeral 
inscription  placed  over  the  chimney-piece. 

"  Du  Moulin,"  he  said,  —  "  you  know  him,  —  the  author 
of  '  La  Fille  EgareeJ  —  always  buried  his  unsuccessful 
works  in  the  family  cemetery.  I  spent  a  week  with  him 
once,  at  his  chateau  near  Orleans,  and  he  took  me  to  see 
the  place.  There  they  were  in  a  row,  mixed  together,  — 
the  children  of  the  brain  and  the  children  of  the  body. 
First  Elise,  a  little  daughter ;  then  *  Henriette,'  a  novel, 
with  '  still-born,'  on  the  tombstone  ;  then  his  son  Adolphe, 
and  then  the  tragedy  of  l  Memnon,'  the  failure  of  which 
he  ascribed  to  the  jealousy  of  a  rival  author,  so  he  had 
inscribed  on  the  stone,  '  assassine  !  '  But  only  one  imper 
sonation  of  my  plan  dies  with  the  Oracle,  —  there  must  be 
another  avatar !  There  is  no  reason  under  heaven  why  I 
should  not  be  as  successful  here  as  Fiorentino  in  Paris.  I 
shall  have  to  adopt  his  tactics,  —  work  through  the  papers 
already  established  instead  of  setting  up  a  new  one.  I  am 
tolerably  sure  of  the  Monitor  and  the  Avenger,  and  I  might 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  433 

have  the  Wonder  also,  if  you  had  not  been  such  a  fool  as 
to  give  up  your  place  on  it,  Godfrey." 

"  It  was  your  representations  that  led  me  to  do  it ! "  I 
angrily  retorted. 

"  Come,  come,  don't  charge  me  with  your  own  greenness ! 
If  a  fellow  takes  my  assertions  for  his  guide,  he  '11  have  a 
devilish  zigzag  to  run.  I  suspect  you  've  been  trying  to 
strike  a  diagonal  between  morality  and  enjoyment,  and 
have  spoiled  yourself  for  either.  But  it  may  be  possible 
to  get  back  your  place  :  I  always  thought  Old  Clarendon 
had  a  sort  of  patronizing  liking  for  you." 

I  knew  what  Brandagee's  object  was,  —  for  what  use  he 
designed  me,  and  feared  the  consummate  dexterity  of  his 
tongue.  There  was  something  utterly  repulsive  to  me  in 
the  idea  of  going  back  and  humiliating  myself  before  Mr. 
Clarendon,  in  order  to  insinuate  articles  intended  to  extort 
black-mail,  —  for  Brandagee's  "  great "  scheme  meant  noth 
ing  else,  —  into  the  columns  of  his  paper.  Yet,  after  what 
had  happened,  I  no  longer  felt  sure  of  myself. 

For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I  deliberately  resolved  to 
escape  at  once  from  my  self-loathing  and  from  this  new 
temptation,  by  the  intoxication  of  wine.  In  all  my  previ 
ous  indulgence,  —  even  when  surrounded  by  a  reckless  and 
joyously-excited  company,  —  I  had  never  lost  the  control 
of  brain  or  body.  Some  protecting  instinct  either  held  me 
back  from  excess,  or  neutralized  its  effects.  I  knew  the 
stages  of  exhilaration,  of  confidence,  of  tenderness,  and  of 
boastful  vanity,  —  but  further  than  those  vestibules,  I  had 
never  entered  the  House  of  Circe. 

I  ordered  a  bottle  of  Sauterne  —  my  favorite  wine  — 
and  began  to  drink.  I  fancy  Brandagee  guessed  the  secret 
of  this  movement,  and  believed  that  it  would  deliver  me 
the  more  easily  into  his  hands.  But  I  cannot  be  sure ;  my 
recollection  of  the  commencement  of  the  evening  is  made 
indistinct  by  the  event  with  which  it  closed.  There  were, 
at  first,  two  other  persons  present,  —  Mears  and  one  of  the 


434  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

comic  writers,  —  and  I  do  not  know  precisely  at  what  hour 
they  left,  but  I  know  that  Brandagee  waited  until  then  to 
commence  his  attack. 

I  finished  one  bottle  and  was  half-way  down  the  second 
before  I  felt  any  positive  effect  from  the  beverage.  Then, 
although  my  feet  and  hands  glowed,  and  the  humming  of 
the  quickened  blood  in  my  veins  was  audible  in  my  ears, 
my  mind  seemed  to  brood,  undisturbed  and  stern,  above 
the  tumult.  The  delicate  flavor  of  the  wine  faded  on  my 
palate ;  a  numbness,  resembling  a  partial  paralysis,  crept 
over  my  body,  —  but  in  my  brain  the  atmosphere  grew 
more  quiet,  sober,  and  gloomy.  The  mysterious  telegraph 
which  carries  the  commands  of  the  will  to  the  obedient 
muscles  seemed  to  be  out  of  order,  —  I  had  lost,  not  the 
power,  but  the  knowledge  of  using  it.  I  sat  like  the  En 
chanted  Prince,  half  marble,  and  my  remaining  senses 
grew  keener  from  their  compression.  My  mental  vision 
turned  inwards  and  was  fixed  upon  myself  with  wonderful 
sharpness  and  power.  Brandagee  commenced  his  prom 
ises  and  persuasions,  deceived  by  my  silence,  and  not 
dreaming  how  little  I  heeded  them.  I  heard  his  voice, 
thrust  far  away  by  the  intentness  of  my  thoughts,  and 
nodded  or  assented  mechanically  from  time  to  time.  To 
talk  —  much  less  discuss  the  matter  with  him  —  was  im 
possible. 

I  was  in  a  condition  resembling  catalepsy  rather  than 
intoxication.  While  perfectly  aware  of  external  sounds 
and  sights,  I  was  apparently  dead  to  them  in  that  luminous 
revelation  of  my  own  nature  which  I  was  forced  to  read. 
I  saw  myself  as  some  serene-eyed  angel  might  have  seen, 
with  every  white  virtue  balanced  by  its  shadowed  vice, 
every  deviation  from  the  straight,  manly  line  of  life  laid 
bare  in  a  blaze  of  light,  I  recognized  what  a  part  vanity 
had  played  in  my  fortunes,  —  with  what  cowardice  I  had 
shrunk  from  unwelcome  truths,  instead  of  endeavoring  to 
assimilate  their  tonic  bitterness,  —  and,  above  all,  how  con- 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  435 

temptible  had  been  the  results  of  indulgence  compared 
with  the  joyous  release  I  had  anticipated.  It  was  a  pas 
sionless,  objective  survey,  which  overlooked  even  the  fluc 
tuations  of  my  feelings,  and  curiously  probed  the  very 
wounds  it  gave. 

I  saw,  further,  that  I  had  been  miserably  weak  in  allow 
ing  three  circumstances  —  important  as  was  their  bearing 
on  my  happiness  —  to  derange  the  ordered  course  of  my 
life,  and  plunge  me  into  ruin.  For  a  youth  whose  only 
gifts  were  a  loving  heart,  a  sanguine  temperament,  and  an 
easy,  fluent  power  of  expression,  I  had  not  been  unsuccess 
ful.  I  rather  wondered  now,  perceiving  my  early  igno 
rance,  that  so  few  obstacles  had  been  thrown  in  my  way. 
I  supposed  that  I  had  performed  marvels  of  energy,  but 
here  I  had  failed  in  the  first  test  of  my  strength  as  a  man. 
If  Isabel  Haworth  had  unjustly  repulsed  me,  I  had  since 
then  justified  her  act  a  hundred  times.  Fool  and  coward, 
—  aspiring  to  be  author,  lover,  man ;  yet  flinging  aside,  at 
the  start,  that  patience  without  which  either  title  is  impos 
sible  ! 

I  saw  clearly,  I  say,  what  I  had  become  —  but  my  clair 
voyance  went  no  further.  There  was  the  void  space  whence 
I  had  torn  my  belief  in  human  honesty  and  affection,  and 
close  beside  it  that  more  awful  chamber,  once  bright  with 
undoubting  reliance  on  The  Father  and  His  Wisdom,  but 
now  filled  with  a  twilight  which  did  not  dare  to  become 
darkness.  How  was  I  to  restore  these  shattered  faiths,  and, 
through  them,  my  shattered  life  ?  This  was  the  question 
which  still  mocked  me.  It  seemed  that  I  was  condemned 
to  behold  myself  forever  in  a  mirror  the  painful  brightness 
of  which  blinded  me  to  everything  else. 

I  had  placed  my  elbows  on  the  table  and  rested  my  face 
on  my  hands  while  undergoing  this  experience.  It  was 
late  in  the  night.  I  had  ceased  to  hear  Brandagee's  voice, 
or  even  to  think  of  it,  when,  little  by  little,  its  tones,  in  con 
versation  with  some  one  else,  forced  themselves  upon  my 
ear. 


436  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

"  I  tell  you  it 's  trying  to  shirk  your  agreement,"  he  said, 
"  when  I  've  done  my  part.  I  've  almost  made  your  fortune 
already." 

"  Not  as  I  knows  on,  you  ha  'n't !  "  replied  another  voice, 
which  I  recognized  as  belonging  to  Miles.  "  It  'ardly  pays 
me.  Leastways  the  profits  on  the  gents  you  brings  'ere 
don't  begin  to  pay  for  your  drinks  any  longer.  It  won't  do, 
Mr.  Brandagee." 

"  Why,  this  one  here  has  put  six  dollars  into  your  pocket 
to-night." 

"  Can't  'e  'ear  you  ?  "  whispered  Miles. 

"  No :  he  's  drunk  as  a  loon.     Godfrey  !  " 

He  called  in  a  low  tone,  then  louder,  —  "  Godfrey ! "  I 
do  not  believe  I  could  have  answered,  if  I  had  tried.  My 
jaws  were  locked. 

"  They  'd  spend  more  if  you  'd  pay  'em  more,"  Miles  con 
tinued.  "  I  'eard  y'r  bargain  about  the  tooth-powder  that 
day  Dr.  What's-'is-name  was  'ere  —  five  dollars  apiece,  it 
was,  and  you  gives  'im  there  two,  and  puts  three  in  your 
hoivn  pocket.  Them  three  'd  be  spent  'ere,  if  you  hacted 
fairly.  Besides,  it  was  n't  understood  that  you  were  to 
come  and  drink  free,  hevery  day.  I  would  n't  ha'  made 
that  sort  of  a  bargain ;  I  knows  'ow  much  you  can  'old." 

Brandagee  laughed  and  said,  —  "  Well,  well,  I  shall  not 
come  so  often  in  future.  Perhaps  not  at  all.  There  's  a 
good  fellow  going  to  open  in  Spring  Street,  and  he  thinks 
of  calling  his  place  the  Ornithorhyncus  paradoxus,  —  the 
name  you  would  n't  have,  Miles.  If  he  does,  it 's  likely  we 
shall  go  there." 

Miles  hemmed  and  coughed ;  he  evidently  disliked  this 
suggestion.  "  There  goes  the  door,"  he  said,  —  "  somebody 
for  the  bar.  Come  out  and  we  '11  'ave  a  brandy  together 
before  you  go." 

The  disclosure  of  Brandagee's  meanness  which  I  had 
just  heard  scarcely  excited  a  ripple  of  surprise  or  indig 
nation  on  the  fixed,  glassy  surface  of  my  consciousness. 


JOHX   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  437 

Wearied  with  the  contemplation  of  my  own  failure,  all  my 
faculties  united  themselves  in  a  desperate  craving  for  help, 
until  this  condition  supplanted  the  former  and  grew  to  the 
same  intensity. 

Presently  Brandagee  rose  and  went  into  the  bar-room, 
and  I  was  left  alone.  In  the  silence  my  feeling  became  a 
prayer.  I  struggled  to  find  the  trace  of  some  path  which 
might  lead  me  out  of  the  evil  labyrinth,  —  but  I  could  not 
think  or  reason :  it  was  blind,  agonizing  groping  in  the 
dark. 

Suddenly,  I  knew  not  how  or  where,  a  single  point  of 
light  shot  out  of  the  gloom.  It  revealed  nothing,  but  I 
trembled  lest  I  was  deceived  by  my  own  sensations,  and 
was  beginning  to  hope  in  vain.  Far  away,  —  somewhere 
in  remote  space,  it  seemed,  —  I  heard  the  faint  sound  of  a 
footstep.  I  could  count  its  regular  fall,  like  the  beating  of 
a  slow,  strong  pulse  ;  I  waited  breathlessly,  striving  to  hold 
back  the  dull,  rapid  throb  of  my  heart,  lest  I  should  lose 
the  sound.  But  the  sense  of  light  grew,  spreading  out  in 
soft  radiations  from  the  starry  point,  and,  as  it  grew,  the 
sound  of  the  footsteps  seemed  to  draw  nearer.  A  strange 
excitement  possessed  me.  I  lifted  my  head  from  my 
hands,  placed  a  hollow  palm  behind  my  ear,  and  threw 
my  whole  soul  into  that  single  sense.  Still  I  heard  the 
sound,  —  distant,  but  clearly  audible  in  its  faintly  ringing 
beat,  and  clung  to  it  as  if  its  cessation  were  the  beginning 
of  deeper  disgrace,  and  its  approach  that  of  a  regenerated 
life! 

It  could  not  have  been  two  minutes  —  but  an  age  of  sus 
pense  was  compressed  into  the  brief  period  —  while  I  thus 
sat  and  listened.  A  voice  within  me  cried  out,  "  It  is  for 
me  !  Do  not  let  it  pass,  —  rise  and  go  to  meet  it ! "  My 
marble  enchantment  was  broken  ;  I  sprang  to  my  feet, 
seized  my  hat,  and  hastened  out  of  the  Cave.  Miles  and 
Brandagee,  with  each  a  steaming  glass  in  hand,  were 
lounging  against  the  bar.  The  latter  called  to  me  as  I 


438  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

passed,  but  I  paid  no  heed  to  him.  Both  of  them  laughed 
as  the  street-door  closed  behind  me. 

It  was  a  cool,  windless,  starry  night.  The  bells  were 
striking  midnight,  and  I  set  my  teeth  and  clenched  my  fists 
with  impatience  for  the  vibration  of  the  last  stroke  to  cease 
that  I  might  listen  again  for  the  footstep.  One  such  sound, 
indeed,  I  heard  between  the  strokes,  —  a  man  coming  down 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  but  it  was  not  the  step  I 
awaited :  it  was  too  light  and  quick.  When  he  had  gone 
by  and  only  the  confused  sounds  of  the  night,  far  or  near, 
stirred  the  air,  I  caught  again  the  familiar  footfall.  It 
appeared  to  be  approaching  Crosby  Street  from  Broadway, 
through  the  next  cross-street  below.  I  was  sure  it  was 
the  same :  there  was  no  mistaking  the  strong,  slow,  even 

&  O'  ' 

march,  slightly  ringing  on  the  flagged  sidewalk.  What 
would  it  bring  to  me  ? 

Nearer  and  nearer,  —  but  I  could  not  advance  to  meet 
it.  I  waited,  with  fast-beating  heart,  under  the  lamp,  and 
counted  every  step  until  I  felt  that  the  next  one  would 
bring  the  man  into  view.  It  came,  —  he  was  there  !  He 
made  two  steps  forward,  as  if  intending  to  keep  the  cross- 
street,  —  paused,  and  presently  turned  up  the  sidewalk 
towards  me.  My  eyes  devoured  his  figure,  but  there  was 
nothing  about  it  which  I  recognized.  A  strong,  broad- 
shouldered  man,  moderately  tall,  with  his  head  bent  for 
ward  as  if  in  meditation,  and  his  pace  as  regular  as  the  tick 
of  a  watch.  Once  he  lifted  his  head  and  looked  towards 
me,  and  I  saw  the  outline  of  a  bushy  whisker  on  each  side 
of  his  face. 

In  three  seconds  more  he  would  pass  me.  I  stood  mo 
tionless,  in  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk,  awaiting  his  coming. 
One  step,  —  two,  —  three,  and  he  was  upon  me.  He  cast 
a  quick  glance  towards  me,  swerved  a  little  from  his 
straight  course,  and  strode  past.  "  Fool !  fool !  "  I  cried  to 
myself,  bitterly.  As  I  did  so,  the  footstep  paused.  I 
turned  and  saw  him  also  turn  and  step  rapidly  back 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  439 

towards  me.  His  head  was  lifted  and  he  looked  keenly 
and  curiously  into  my  face. 

"  Why,  John  —  John  Godfrey,  is  it  you  ?  " 

He  had  me  by  both  hands  before  the  words  were  out  of 
his  mouth.  One  clear  view  of  that  broad,  homely,  manly 
face  in  the  lamplight,  and  I  cried,  in  a  voice  full  of  joy  and 
tears,  — 

"  Bob  Simmons !  Dear  old  friend,  God  has  sent  you  to 
save  me ! " 

Bob  Simmons,  my  boyish  comrade,  whom  I  had  almost 
forgotten !  In  the  Providence  which  led  him  to  me  at  that 
hour  and  in  that  crisis  of  my  fortunes,  my  fears  of  a  blind 
Chance,  or  a  baleful,  pursuing  Fate,  were  struck  down  for 
ever.  Light  came  back  to  the  dusky  chamber  of  my  heart, 
and  substance  to  the  void  space.  I  prefer  not  to  think  that 
my  restoration  to  health  was  already  assured  by  the  previ 
ous  struggle  through  which  my  mind  had  passed,  —  that 
from  the  clearer  comprehension  of  myself,  I  should  have 
worked  up  again  by  some  other  path.  It  is  pleasant  to 
remember  that  the  hand  of  a  brother-man  lent  its  strength 
to  mine,  and  to  believe  that  it  was  the  chosen  instrument 
of  my  redemption  from  evil  ways. 

My  excited,  almost  hysterical  condition  was  incompre 
hensible  to  Bob.  I  saw  the  gladness  in  his  eyes  change  to 
wonder  and  tender  sympathy.  The  next  instant,  I  thought, 
he  must  see  the  debasement  which  was  written  all  over  me. 

"  Bob,"  I  said,  "  don't  leave  me,  now  that  I  have  found 
you  again  ! "  There  was  a  noise  of  footsteps  in  the  bar 
room  of  the  Ichneumon  :  Brandagee  was  coming.  Still 
holding  the  hand  of  my  friend,  I  hurried  him  up  the  street. 

"  ^Hiere  do  you  live,  John  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Nowhere  !  I  am  a  vagabond.  Oh,  Bob,  you  carried  me 
once  in  your  arms  when  I  fell  out  of  the  apple-tree  ;  give 
me  your  hand,  at  least,  now,  when  I  need  your  help  so 
much  more  than  then  ! " 

Bob  said  nothing,  but  his  hard  fingers  crushed  mine  in 


440  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

a  long  grasp.  Then  he  took  my  arm,  and  resuming  his 
steady  stride,  bore  me  with  him  through  Prince  Street  into 
the  Bowery,  and  a  long  distance  down  Stanton  Street. 
Finally  he  stopped  before  a  house,  —  one  of  a  cheaply- 
built,  uniform  block,  —  opened  the  door  with  a  night-key, 
and  drew  me  after  him.  After  some  dark  groping  up  stair 
cases,  I  found  myself  in  a  rear  room.  He  found  a  match, 
lighted  a  candle,  and  I  saw  a  small,  modest  apartment, 
befitting,  in  its  simple  appointments,  the  habits  of  a  labor 
ing  man,  but  really  luxurious  in  contrast  to  the  shabby  attic 
in  "which  I  had  been  housed. 

"  There ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  these  is  my  quarters,  sich  as 
they  are.  None  too  big,  but  you  're  welcome  to  your  share 
of  'em.  It 's  a  long  time,  John,  since  you  and  me  slept 
together  at  th'  old  farm.  Both  of  us  is  changed,  but  I  'd 
ha'  knowed  you  anywheres." 

"  It  is  a  long  time,  Bob.  I  wish  I  could  go  back  to  it 
again.  Do  you  recollect  what  you  said  to  me  when  we 
were  boys,  just  thinking  of  making  our  start  in  the  world  ? 
It  was  my  head  against  your  hands  ;  look,  now,  to  what  my 
head  has  brought  me  ! " 

Partly  from  shame  and  self-pity,  partly  also  from  the 
delayed  effect  of  the  wine  I  had  drunk,  I  burst  into  tears. 
Poor  Bob  was  inexpressibly  grieved.  He  drew  me  to  the 
little  bed,  sat  down  beside  me,  put  his  arm  around  me,  and 
tried  to  comfort  me  in  the  way  which  first  occurred  to  his 
simple  nature,  by  diminishing  the  force  of  the  contrast. 

"  Never  mind,  John,"  he  said.  "  My  hands  ha'n't  done 
nothin'  yit  worth  mentionin'.  I  a'n't  boss,  only  foreman,  — 
a  sort  o'  head-journeyman,  you  know.  There  's  the  stuff  in 
you  for  a  dozen  men  like  me."  • 

I  laid  my  head  upon  his  shoulder  with  the  grateful  sense 
of  reliance  and  protecting  strength  which,  I  imagine,  must 
be  the  bliss  of  a  woman's  heart  when  she  first  feels  herself 
clasped  by  the  arms  of  the  man  she  loves.  Presently  I 
grew  calm  again,  and  commenced  the  confession  of  my  life, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  441 

which,  from  beginning  to  end,  I  was  determined  that  Bob 
should  hear.  But  I  had  not  made  much  progress  in  \tf  be 
fore  I  felt  that  I  was  growing  deathly  faint  and  sick,  and 
my  words  turned  to  moans  of  distress. 

Bob  poured  some  water  on  a  towel  and  bathed  my  head, 
then  helped  me  to  undress  and  laid  me  in  his  bed.  I  re 
member  only  that,  some  time  afterwards,  he  lay  down  beside 
me  ;  that,  thinking  me  asleep,  he  tenderly  placed  his  hand 
on  my  brow  and  smoothed  back  my  ruffled  hair ;  that  a 
feeling  of  gratitude  struck,  like  a  Soft,  sweet  pang,  through 
the  sensation  of  my  physical  wretchedness,  —  and  then  a 
gray  blank  succeeded. 

When  I  awoke,  it  was  daylight.  I  turned  on  my  pillow, 
saw  that  Bob  had  gone  and  that  the  rolling  curtain  had 
been  drawn  down  before  the  window.  My  head  was  pierced 
with  a  splitting  pain ;  my  eyelids  fell  of  their  own  accord, 
and  I  sank  again  into  a  restless  sleep. 

It  must  have  been  afternoon  when  a  light  footstep  aroused 
me.  There  was  a  plain,  pleasant-faced  woman  in  the  room, 
who  came  forward  to  the  bedside,  at  the  movement  I  made. 

"  Where  's  Bob  ? "  I  asked. 

"  He  went  off  early  to  his  work,  sir.  But  you  're  to  keep 
still  and  rest ;  he  '11  be  back  betimes,  this  evenin.'  And  I 
've  a  cup  o'  tea  ready  for  you,  and  a  bit  o'  toast." 

She  brought  them,  placed  them  on  a  stand  by  the  bed 
side,  and  left  the  room.  I  was  still  weak  and  feverish,  but 
the  refreshment  did  me  good,  and  my  sleep,  after  that,  was 
lighter  and  more  healthful.  It  was  a  new,  delicious  sensa 
tion,  to  feel  that  there  was  somebody  in  the  world  who 
cared  for  me. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  Bob  came  softly  into  the  room. 
I  stretched  out  my  hand  towards  him,  and  the  honest  fellow 
was  visibly  embarrassed  by  the  look  of  gratitude  and  love 
I  fixed  on  his  face. 

"  You  're  comin'  round,  finely ! "  he  cried,  in  a  cheery 
voice.  "  I  would  n't  ha'  left  you,  at  all,  John,  but  for  the 


442  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

work  dependin'  on  me ;  it 's  that  big  buildin'  down  in  Cort- 
landt  Street,  right-hand  side.  But  to-morrow  's  Sunday, 
as  good  luck  will  have  it,  and  so  we  can  spend  the  whole 
day  together." 

Bob  brought  me  some  more  tea,  and  would  have  gone 
out  for  oysters,  "  patridges,"  and  various  other  delicacies 
which  he  suggested,  if  I  had  allowed  him.  His  presence, 
however,  was  what  I  most  craved.  After  the  morbid  in 
tellectual  atmosphere  I  had  breathed  for  the  last  few  months, 
there  was  something  as  fresh  and  bracing  as  mountain 
breezes  in  the  simple,  rude  commingling  of  purely  moral 
and  physical  elements  in  his  nature.  The  course  of  his 
life  was  set,  from  his  very  birth,  and  rolled  straight  forward, 
untroubled  by  painful  self-questioning.  If  a  temptation 
assailed  him,  he  might  possibly  yield  to  it  for  a  moment, 
but  the  next  he  would  recover  his  balance.  An  influence 
of  order  flowed  from  him  into  me,  and  my  views  of  life 
began  to  arrange  themselves  in  accordance  with  it. 

He  was  boarding,  he  informed  me,  with  a  married-^ fellow- 
workman,  whose  wife  it  was  that  I  had  seen.  He  had  been 
in  New  York  since  the  previous  autumn ;  it  was  the  best 
place  for  his  trade  and  he  intended  remaining.  The  day 
before  one  of  the  journeymen  had  been  married ;  there 
was  a  family  party  at  the  bride's  home,  in  Jersey  City ;  he 
had  been  invited,  and  was  on  his  way  back  when  he  met 
me  in  Crosby  Street.  ^ .  ? . 

"  Did  you  think  of  me  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Had  you  a  pre 
sentiment  that  you  would  meet  an  old  friend  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  was  thinkin'  of —  well,  no  matter. 
I  no  more  expected  to  come  across  you,  John,  than  —  than 
Adam.  But  I  'm  real  glad  it  turned  out  so." 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  443 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

IN    WHICH    I    HEED    GOOD    ADVICE,    MAKE    A    DISCOVERY, 
AND    RETURN    TO    MRS.    VERY. 

THE  Sunday  which  followed  was  the  happiest  day  I  had 
known  for  many  months.  I  awoke  with  a  clear  head  and 
a  strong  sense  of  hunger  in  my  stomach,  and  after  making 
myself  as  presentable  as  my  worn  and  dusty  garments  would 
allow,  went  down  with  Bob  to  breakfast  with  the  workman 
and  his  wife.  The  good  people  received  me  civilly,  and 
asked  no  embarrassing  questions.  Bob,  I  surmised,  had 
explained  to  them  my  appearance  in  his  own  way.  So, 
when  the  meal  was  over,  he  remarked,  — 

"  1  guess  I  sha'n't  go  to  church  to-day.  You  won't  want 
to  go  out,  John,  and  I  '11  keep  you  company."  • 

I  should  gladly  have  accompanied  him,  humbled  and 
penitent,  to  give  thanks  for  the  change  in  my  fortunes,  un 
certain  though  it  still  was,  but  for  the  fear  that  my  appear 
ance,  so  little  like  that  of  a  decent  worshipper,  would  draw 
attention  to  me.  For  Bob's  sake  I  stayed  at  home,  and  he 
for  mine. 

The  time  was  well-spent,  nevertheless.  Confession  is  a 
luxury,  when  one  is  assured  beforehand  of  the  sympathy 
of  the  priest,  and  his  final  absolution.  In  the  little  back 
bedroom,  Bob  sitting  with  his  pipe  at  the  open  window,  I 
told  him  my  story,  from  the  day  I  had  last  seen  him  on  the 
scaffold  in  Honeybrook,  to  the  meeting  of  two  nights  be 
fore.  I  could  not  explain  to  him  the  bearing  of  my  intel 
lectual  aims  on  the  events  of  my  life :  he  would  not  have 
understood  it.  But  the  episodes  of  my  love  touched  our 


444  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

common  nature  atfd  would  sufficiently  account,  in  his  view, 
for  my  late  recklessness.  I  therefore  confined  myself  to 
those  and  to  such  other  facts  as  I  supposed  he  would  easily 
grasp,  since  he  must  judge  me,  mainly,  by  external  circum 
stances. 

When  I  had  finished,  I  turned  towards  him  and  said,  — 
"  And  now,  Bob,  what  do  you  think  of  me  ?  " 

"Jest what  I  always  did.  There  's  nothin'  you  've  done 
that  one  of  us  hard-fisted  fellows  might  n't  do  every  day, 
and  think  no  more  about  it,  —  onless  it 's  cuttin'  stick  with 
out  settlin'  for  your  board,  and  borrowin'  from  a  needy 
friend  when  you  have  n't  the  means  o'  payin'  him.  But  you 
did  n't  know  that  when  you  borrowed,  —  I  '11  take  my  oath 
on  it.  Your  feelin's  always  was  o'  the  fine,  delicate  kind,  — 
mine  's  sort  o'  coarse-grained  alongside  of  'em,  —  and  it 
seems  to  me  you  've  worried  yourself  down  lower  than 
you  'd  had  any  need  to  ha'  gone.  When  a  man  thinks  he 's 
done  for,  and  it 's  all  day  with  him,  he  '11  step  into  the  fire 
when  he  might  just  as  easy  step  out  of  it.  I  s'pose,  though, 
there  's  more  expected  of  a  man,  the  more  brains  he  has, 
and  the  higher  he  stands  before  the  world.  I  might  swear 
in  moderation,  for  instance,  and  no  great  harm,  while  a 
minister  would  be  damned  if  he  was  to  say  t  damned '  any 
wheres  but  in  his  pulpit." 

"  But  you  see,  Bob,  how  I  have  degraded  myself!  " 

"  Yes,  I  don't  wonder  you  feel  so.  Puttin'  myself  in 
your  place,  I  can  understand  it,  and  't  would  n't  be  the 
right  thing,  s'posin'  the  case  was  mine.  The  fact  is,  John, 
we  Ve  each  one  of  us  got  to  take  our  share  of  the  hard 
knocks.  There  's  a  sayin'  among  us  that  a  man  's  got  to 
have  a  brickbat  fall  on  his  head  once't  in  his  life.  Well 
—  when  you  know  it 's  the  rule,  you  may  as  well  grin  and 
bear  it,  like  any  other  man.  I  know  it  comes  hard,  once't 
in  a  while  —  Lord  God,  some  things  is  hard ! " 

Bob  pronounced  these  last  words  with  an  energy  that 
startled  me.  His  pipe  snapped  in  his  fingers,  and  falling 


JOHN    GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  445 

on  the  floor,  was  broken  into  a  dozen  pieces.  "  Blast  the 
pipe  ! "  he  exclaimed,  kicking  them  into  a  corner.  Then 
he  arose,  filled  a  fresh  pipe,  lighted  it,  and  quietly  resumed 
his  seat. 

"  What  would  you  do  now,"  I  asked,  "  if  you  were  in  my 
place  ? " 

"Forgit  what  can't  be  helped,  and  take  a  fresh  start. 
Let  them  fellows  alone  you  've  been  with.  That  Bran- 
dagee  must  be  as  sharp  as  a  razor ;  I  can  see  you  're  no 
match  for  him.  You  seem  to  ha'  been  doin'  well  enough, 
until  you  let  him  lead  you ;  why  not  go  back  to  the  rest  of 
it,  leavin'  him  out  o'  the  bargain  ?  That  editor  now,  —  Clar 
endon,  —  I  'd  go  straight  to  him,  and  if  I  had  to  eat  a 
mouthful  or  so  o'  humble  pie,  why,  it 's  of  my  own  bakin' ! " 

I  reflected  a  few  minutes  and  found  that  Bob  was  right. 
Of  all  men  whom  I  knew,  and  who  were  likely  to  aid  me, 
I  had  the  greatest  respect  for  Mr.  Clarendon,  and  could 
approach  him  with  the  least  humiliation.  I  decided  to  make 
the  attempt,  and  told  Bob  so. 

"  That 's  right,"  said  he.  "  And  I  tell  you  what,  —  it 's 
the  rule  o'  life  that  you  don't  git  good-luck  in  one  way 
without  payin'  for  it  in  another.  I  Ve  found  that  out,  to 
my  cost.  And  the  Bible  is  right,  that  the  straight  road  and 
the  narrow  one  is  the  best,  though  it 's  hard  to  the  feet. 
The  narrower  the  road,  the  less  a  man  staggers  in  it.  You 
seem,  oftentimes,  to  be  doin'  your  duty  for  nothin',  —  worse 
than  that,  gettin'  knocks  for  doin'  it,  —  but  it 's  my  belief 
that  you  '11  find  out  the  meanin',  if  you  wait  long  enough. 
There  's  that  girl  down  in  Upper  Samaria,  —  you  must  ha' 
been  awfully  cut  up  about  her,  and  no  wonder,  but  did  n't 
it  turn  out  best,  after  all  ?  " 

Bob's  simple  philosophy  was  amply  adequate  to  my 
needs.  Without  understanding  my  more  complex  experi 
ence  of  life,  he  offered  me  a  sufficient  basis  to  stand  upon. 
Perhaps  the  thought  passed  through  my  mind  that  it  was 
easy  for  his  coarse,  unimpressionable  nature  to  keep  the 


446  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

straight  path,  and  to  butt  aside,  with  one  sturdy  blow,  the 
open  front  of  passions  which  approached  me  by  a  thousand 
stealthy  avenues.  I  doubted  whether  keen  disappointment 
—  positive  suffering  —  empowered  him  to  speak  with  equal 
authority ;  but  these  surmises,  even  if  true,  could  not 
weaken  the  actual  truth  of  his  words.  His  natural,  un 
conscious  courage  shamed  out  of  sight  the  lofty  energy 
upon  which  I  had  prided  myself. 

I  was  surprised,  also,  at  the  practical  instinct  which  en 
abled  him  to  comprehend  circumstances  so  different  from 
his  own,  and  to  judge  of  men  from  what  I  revealed  of  their 
connection  with  my  history.  It  occurred  to  me  that  the 
faculty  of  imagination,  unless  in  its  extreme  potency,  is  a 
hindrance  rather  than  an  aid  to  the  study  of  human  nature. 
I  felt  assured  that  Bob  would  have  correctly  read  the 
characters  of  every  one  of  my  associates  in  one  fourth  of 
the  time  which  I  had  required. 

It  was  arranged  that  I  should  make  my  call  upon  Mr. 
Clarendon  the  very  next  day.  Bob  offered  me  one  of  his 
shirts,  and  would  have  added  his  best  coat,  if  there  had 
been  any  possibility  of  adapting  its  large  outline  to  my 
slender  shoulders.  He  insisted  that,  whether  or  not  my 
application  were  successful,  I  should  share  his  room  until 
I  had  made  a  little  headway.  I  agreed,  because  I  saw  that 
a  refusal  would  have  pained  him. 

I  own  that  my  sensations  were  not  agreeable  as  I  rang 
the  bell  at  Mr.  Clarendon's  door.  It  was  necessary  to  hold 
down  my  pride  with  a  strong  hand,  —  a  species  of  self- 
control  to  which  I  had  not  latterly  been  accustomed.  When 
I  found  myself,  a  few  minutes  afterward,  face  to  face  with 
the  editor  in  his  library,  the  quiet  courtesy  of  his  greeting 
reassured  me.  It  was  not  so  difficult  to  make  the  plunge, 
as  I  did,  in  the  words,  somewhat  bitterly  uttered,  — 

"  Another  edition  of  the  prodigal  son,  Mr.  Clarendon." 

He  smiled  with  a  frank  humor,  in  which  there  was  no 
trace  of  derision.  "  And  you  have  come  to  me  for  the 
fatted  calf,  I  suppose  ?  "  he  said. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  447 

"  Oh,  a  very  lean  one  will  satisfy  me.  Or  a  chicken,  if 
there  is  no  calf  on  hand." 

"  You  must  have  been  feeding  on  husks  with  a  ven 
geance,  in  that  case,  Mr.  Godfrey.  If  I  ask  for  your  story, 
believe  me  it  is  not  from  intrusive  curiosity." 

I  was  sure  of  that,  and  very  willingly  confessed  to  him 
all  that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  know.  In  fact,  he 
seemed  to  know  it  in  advance,  and  his  face  expressed  neither 
surprise  nor  condemnation.  His  eyes  seemed  rather  to 
ask  whether  I  was  strong  enough  to  keep  aloof  from  those 
excitements,  and  I  gratefully  responded  to  the  considerate, 
fatherly  interest  which  prompted  his  questions. 

The  result  of  our  interview  was  that  I  was  reinstated  in 
my  employment,  —  in  a  somewhat  lower  position  than  for 
merly,  it  is  true,  and  with  a  slightly  diminished  salary  ;  but 
it  was  more  than  I  had  any  reason  to  expect.  Mr.  Claren 
don  made  his  kindness  complete  by  offering  me  a  loan  for 
my  immediate  necessities,  which  I  declined  in  a  burst  of 
self-denying  resolution.  I  was  sorry  for  it,  upon  reflecting, 
after  I  had  left  the  house,  that  Swansford  might  be  suffer 
ing  through  my  neglect,  and  my  acceptance  of  the  offer 
would  have  enabled  me  to  relieve  him. 

This  reflection  was  so  painful  that  I  determined  to  draw 
upon  Bob's  generosity  for  the  money,  and,  until  his  return, 
employed  myself  in  commencing  a  magazine  story,  of  a  much 
more  cheerful  and  healthy  tone  than  my  recent  productions. 
Bob  was  later  than  usual,  and  his  footstep,  as  he  ascended 
the  stairs,  was  so  slow  and  heavy  that  I  hardly  recognized 
it.  He  came  bending  into  the  room  with  a  weight  on  his 
shoulders,  which  proved  to  be  —  the  trunk  I  had  left  be 
hind  me  at  Mrs.  De  Peyster's  ! 

"  I  thought  you  might  want  it,  John,  so  I  jest  come  up 
by  way  o'  Bleecker  Street,  and  fetched  it  along,"  said  he. 

"  But  how  did  she  happen  to  let  you  take  it  ?  Oh,  I  see. 
Bob,  you  have  paid  my  debt ! " 

"  Yes ;  it 's  better  you  'd  owe  it  to  me  than  to  her.  I 
know  you  '11  pay  me  back  ag'in,  and  she  don't." 


448  JOHX   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Bob's  view  of  the  matter  was  so  simple  and  natural  that 
I  did  not  embarrass  him  with  my  thanks.  But  I  could  not 
now  ask  for  a  further  loan,  and  poor  Swansford  must  wait 
a  few  days  longer. 

While  Bob  was  smoking  his  evening  pipe,  I  told  him  of 
the  fortunate  result  of  my  visit  to  Mr.  Clarendon. 

"  I  knowed  it,"  was  his  quiet  comment.  "  Now  we  '11 
take  a  fresh  start,  John,  —  your  head  aginst  my  hands. 
One  heat  don't  win,  you  know ;  it 's  the  best  two  out  o' 
three." 

"  Then,  Bob !  "  I  exclaimed,  in  a  sudden  effusion  of  pas 
sion,  —  "  I  've  lost  where  I  most  wanted  to  win.  What 
are  head  and  hands  together  beside  the  heart !  Bob,  did 
you  ever  love  a  woman  ? " 

"  I  'm  a  man,"  he  answered,  in  a  stern  voice.  After  a 
few  long  whiffs,  he  drew  his  shirt-sleeve  across  his  brow. 
I  am  not  sure  but  it  touched  his  eyes. 

"  John,"  he  began  again,  "  there  's  somethin'  queer  about 
this  matter  o'  love.  I  Ve  thought,  sometimes,  that  the 
Devil  is  busy  to  keep  the  right  men  and  women  apart,  and 
bring  the  wrong  ones  together.  It  goes  with  the  rest  of  us 
as  it's  gone  with  you.  When  I  told  you  that  you  must 
grin  and  bear,  t'other  night,  I  was  n't  preachin'  what  I 
don't  practise  myself.  There  was  a  little  girl  I  knowed, 
last  summer,  over  in,  Jersey,  that  I  'd  ha'  given  my  right 
hand  for.  I  thought,  at  one  time,  she  liked  me,  but  jest 
when  my  hopes  was  best,  she  went  off  between  two 
days  " 

"  What  ?  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Took  herself  away,  without  sayin'  good-bye  to  any 
body.  Ha'n't  been  heard  of  from  that  day  to  this.  Her 
aunt  had  a  notion  that  she  must  ha'  goiie  to  New  York,  and 
I  first  come  here,  as  much  as  for  anything  else,  hopin'  I 
might  git  on  the  track  of  her.  I  tell  you,  John,  many  's 
the  night  I  've  walked  the  streets,  lookin'  into  the  girls' 
faces,  in  mortal  fear  o'  seem'  hers  among  'em.  It  may  n't 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  449 

be  so  bad  as  that,  you  know,  but  a  fellow  can't  help  thinkin' 
the  worst." 

I  was  thunderstruck  by  the  singular  fancy  which  forced 
itself  into  my  mind.  If  it  were  true,  should  I  mention  it  ? 
—  should  I  relieve  the  torture  of  doubt  only  by  the  worse 
torture  of  reality?  I  looked  at  Bob's  calm,  sad,  rugged 
face,  and  saw  there  the  marks  of  a  strength  which  I  might 
trust ;  but  it  was  with  a  hesitating,  trembling  voice  that  I 
said,  — 

"  Did  she  live  in  Hackettstown,  Bob  ?  " 

He  started,  turned  on  me  a  pair  of  intense,  shining  eyes, 
which  flashed  the  answer  to  my  question.  The  hungry  in 
quiry  of  his  face  forced  the  name  from  my  lips,  — 

"  Jane  Berry." 

"  Where  is  she,  John  ?      What  is  she  ?  " 

The  questions  were  uttered  under  his  breath,  yet  they 
had  the  power  of  a  cry.  I  saw  the  task  I  had  brought  upon 
myself,  and  braced  my  heart  for  a  pain  almost  as  hard  to 
inflict  as  to  endure.  His  eyes,  fixed  upon  me,  read  the 
struggle,  and  interpreted  its  cause.  He  groaned,  and  laid 
his  head  upon  the  window-sill,  but  only  for  a  moment.  I 
could  guess  the  pang  that  rent  his  warm,  brave,  faithful 
heart,  and  the  tears  he  held  back  from  his  own  eyes  came 
into  mine. 

Then,  as  rapidly  as  possible,  —  for  I  saw  his  eagerness 
and  impatience,  —  I  told  him  how  and  where  I  had  first 
met  Jane  Berry,  repeated  to  him  her  confession  to  me,  and 
explained  the  mystery  of  her  disappearance.  I  did  not 
even  conceal  that  passage  where  I  had  shamefully  put  off 
the  character  of  helper  and  essayed  that  of  tempter,  be 
cause  there  might  be  a  sad  consolation  in  this  evidence  that 
her  virtue,  though  wrecked,  had  not  gone  down  forever. 
Though  lost  to  him,  she  was  not  wholly  lost  to  herself. 

When  I  had  finished,  he  drew  a  long  breath  and  ex 
claimed,  in  a  low  voice,  "  Thank  God,  I  know  all  now  ! 
Poor  foolish  girl,  she  's  paid  dear  enough  for  her  folly. 


450  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

What  ought  to  be  done  is  past  my  knowledge,  savin'  this 
one  thing,  that  she  must  be  found,  —  must  be,  I  say,  and 
you  '11  help  me,  John  ?  " 

"  I  will,  Bob,  —  here  's  my  hand  on  it.  We  '11  go  to 
Mary  Maloney  at  once." 

In  half  an  hour  we  were  in  Gooseberry  Alley.  It  was 
little  the  Irishwoman  could  tell,  but  that  little  was  encour 
aging.  She  had  seen  Jane  Berry  but  once  since  her  de 
parture,  and  that,  fortunately,  within  the  past  month.  Jane 
had  come  to  her  house, "  quite  brisk  and  chirrupin',''  she  said ; 
had  inquired  for  me,  and  seemed  very  much  disappointed 
that  Mary  was  ignorant  of  my  whereabouts ;  said  she  had 
been  successful  in  getting  work,  that  she  was  doing  very 
well,  and  would  never  forget  how  she  had  been  helped ;  but 
did  not  give  her  address,  nor  say  when  she  would  return. 
Mary  confessed  that  she  had  not  pressed  her  to  repeat  her 
visit  soon ;  "  you  know  the  raison,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  she  re 
marked. 

The  next  day,  I  went  with  Bob  to  the  Bowery  establish 
ment  where  I  had  first  procured  work  for  the  unfortunate 
girl ;  but  neither  there,  nor  at  other  places  of  the  kind, 
could  we  gain  any  information.  Bob,  however,  at  my  re 
quest,  wrote  to  her  aunt  in  New  Jersey,  stating  that  he  had 
discovered  that  Jane  was  supporting  herself  by  her  trade, 
and  that  he  hoped  soon  to  find  her.  I  judged  this  step 
might  prepare  the  way  for  her  return  ;  it  was  the  only  man 
ner  in  which  we  could  help  her  now.  I  did  not  despair  of 
our  finding  her  hiding-place,  sooner  or  later.  In  fact,  I  ac 
cepted  the  task  as  an  imperative  duty,  for  /  had  driven  her 
away.  Bob,  also,  was  patient  and  hopeful ;  he  performed 
his  daily  labor  steadily,  and  never  uttered  a  word  of  com 
plaint.  But  he  sighed  wearily,  and  muttered  in  his  sleep, 
so  long  as  I  shared  his  bed. 

Thanks  to  his  forethought,  I  put  on  the  feelings  with  the 
garments  of  respectability.  My  return  to  the  Wonder  of 
fice  was  hailed  with  delight  by  the  honest  Lettsom,  and 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  451 

even  with  mild  pleasure  by  the  melancholy  Severn.  My 
mechanical  tasks  even  became  agreeable  by  contrast  with 
exhaustive  straining  after  effect,  or  the  production  of  those 
advertising  verses,  which  I  never  wrote  without  a  sense  of 
degradation.  I  was  familiar  with  the  routine  of  my  duties, 
and  gave  from  the  start  —  as  I  had  resolved  to  give  —  sat 
isfaction.  Mr.  Clarendon,  it  appeared,  had  only  intended 
to  test  my  sincerity  in  his  new  offer  of  terms ;  for,  at  the 
close  of  the  week,  I  found  myself  established  on  the  old 
footing. 

No  sooner  was  the  money  in  my  pocket  than  I  hastened 
to  Mrs.  Very's,  palpitating  with  impatience  to  make  atone 
ment  to  Swansford.  The  servant-girl  who  answered  the 
door  informed  me,  not  only  that  he  was  in,  but  that  he 
never  went  out  now.  He  had  been  very  sick  ;  the  doctor 
would  n't  let  him  play  on  the  piano,  and  it  made  him  worse  ; 
so  now  he  was  at  it  from  morning  till  night. 

I  heard  the  faint  sounds  of  the  instrument  coming  down 

O 

from  the  attic,  as  soon  as  I  had  entered  the  door.  The 
knowledge  of  him,  sick,  lonely,  and  probably  in  want  of 
money,  sent  a  sharp  pain  to  my  heart.  As  I  mounted  the 
last  flight  of  steps,  I  distinguished  his  voice,  apparently 
trying  passages  of  a  strange,  sad  melody,  repeating  them 
with  slight  variations,  and  accompanying  them  with  sus 
taining  chords  which  struck  my  ear  like  the  strokes  of  a 
muffled  bell. 

He  was  so  absorbed  that  he  did  not  notice  my  entrance. 
When  I  called  out  his  name,  he  turned  his  head  and  looked 
at  me  with  a  feeble,  melancholy  smile,  without  ceasing  his 
performance.  I  laid  the  money  on  one  end  of  the  piano, 
and  described  my  conduct  in  harsh  terms,  and  begged  his 
forgiveness  ;  but  still  he  played  on,  smiling  and  nodding 
from  time  to  time,  as  if  to  assure  me  that  he  heard  and  for 
gave,  while  the  absorbed,  mysterious  gleam  deepened  in  his 
sunken  eyes.  I  began  to  doubt  whether  he  was  aware  of 
my  presence,  when  the  muffled  bells  tolling  under  his  fin- 


4,32  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

gers  seemed  to  recede  into  the  distance,  sinking  into  the 
mist  of  golden  hills,  farther  and  fainter,  until  they  died  in 
the  silence  of  the  falling  sky.  Then  he  turned  to  me  and 
spoke,  — 

"  Godfrey,  was  n't  it  Keats  who  said,  '  I  feel  the  daisies 
already  growing  over  me '  ?  You  heard  those  bells  ;  they 
were  tolling  for  me,  or,  rather,  for  that  in  me  which  laments 
the  closing  of  a  useless  life,  a  thwarted  destiny.  What  is 
there  left  to  me  now  but  to  write  my  own  dirge  ?  And 
who  is  tnere  to  charge  me  with  presumption  if  I  flatter  my 
dreary  departure  from  life  by  assigning  to  myself  the  fame 
of  which  I  dreamed  ?  Fame  is  but  the  echo  of  achieve 
ment,  and  I  have  sung  into  the  empty  space  which  sends  no 
echo  back.  Listen  !  I  celebrate  myself —  I  give  the  '  meed 
of  one  melodious  tear '  to  my  own  grave  !  No  artist  ever 
passed  away  in  such  utter  poverty  as  that,  I  think." 

He  commenced  again,  and  after  an  introduction,  in  the 
fitful  breaks  and  dissonances  of  which  I  heard  ihe  brief  ex 
pression  of  his  life,  fell  into  a  sad,  simple  melody.  There 
were  several  stanzas,  but  I  only  remember  the  following :  — 

11  His  golden  harp  is  silent  now, 
And  dust  is  on  his  laurelled  brow: 
His  songs  are  hushed,  his  music  fled, 
And  amaranth  crowns  his  starry  head: 

Toll!  toll!  the  minstrel 's  dead!  "  * 

Twice  he  sang  the  dirge,  as  if  there  were  a  mad,  desper 
ate  enjoyment  in  the  idea  ;  then,  as  the  final  chords  flick 
ered  and  trembled  off  into  the  echoless  space,  his  hands 
slipped  from  the  keys,  and,  with  a  long  sigh,  his  head 
dropped  on  his  breast.  I  caught  him  in  my  arms,  and  my 

*  In  searching  among  my  papers  for  some  relic  of  poor  Swansford,  I  came 
upon  a  crumpled  leaf,  upon  one  side  of  which  is  written,  — 

"  3  shirts  18 

5  handkerchiefs     10 
3  pr.  socks  9 

37  cts." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  453 

heart  stood  still  with  the  fear  that  his  excitement  had  made 
the  song  prophetic,  and  he  was  actually  dead.  I  laid  him 
on  the  bed,  loosened  his  collar,  and  bathed  his  brow,  and 
after  a  few  minutes  he  opened  his  eyes. 

"  Godfrey,"  he  said,  "  it  's  kind  of  you  to  come.  You  see 
there  is  n't  much  left  of  me.  You  and  I  expected  some 
thing  else  in  the  old  days,  but  —  any  change  carries  a  hope 
with  it." 

Regret  or  reproach  on  my  part  availed  nothing.  What 
was  still  possible,  I  resolved  to  do.  When  Swansford  had 
somewhat  recovered  his  strength,  I  left  him  and  sought 
Mrs.  Very.  That  estimable  and  highly  genteel  woman 
shed  tears  as  she  recounted  the  particulars  of  his  illness, 
and  hailed  as  a  godsend  my  proposal  to  return  to  my  old 
quarters  —  now  fortunately  vacant  —  in  her  house.  I  then 
hastened  to  Stanton  Street,  packed  my  trunk,  and  awaited 
Bob's  return.  He  had  not  a  word  to  say  against  my  plan, 
and,  moreover,  offered  his  own  help  if  it  should  be  neces 
sary. 

Thus  I  found  myself  back  again  at  the  starting-point  of 
three  years  before  ;  but,  ah  me  !  —  the  sentimental,  eager, 
inexperienced  youth  of  that  period  seemed  to  be  no  relation 
of  mine. 

while  in  pencil,  on  the  opposite  side,  is  the  stanza  I  have  quoted,  with  the 
exception  of  the  refrain,  — 


ppzzfrzzzp:  izur—  »=:p:i~  pi=z:»z=z-==i_zz:i 

His       gol   -    den    harp        is  si    -    lent      now,      And 

duFt     is       on      his      lau  -  relied  brow  :          His  songs    are  hushed,  his 
mu    -    sic     fled,  And    ama-ranth  crowns  his    star   -   ry     head! 


454  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER    XXXVI. 

WHICH    BRINGS    THE     SYMPHONY    TO    AN    END,    BUT    LEAVES 
ME    WITH    A    HOPE. 

MR.  CLARENDON  need  not  have  feared  that  I  might  re 
lapse  into  evil  habits  ;  every  hour  I  could  spare  from  my 
duties  was  devoted  to  the  service  of  my  dying  friend.  Since 
I  had  neglected  and  thoughtlessly  injured  him,  I  now  re 
solved  that  no  moment  of  his  brief  life  should  reproach  me 
after  its  close.  He  was  too  feeble  to  deny  me  this  satisfac 
tion  ;  and  I  saw,  with  a  mournful  pleasure,  that  no  other 
hand  was  so  welcome  as  mine,  no  other  voice  could  so 
quickly  bring  the  light  back  into  his  fading  eyes.  Bob  in 
sisted  on  relieving  me,  now  and  then,  of  my  nightly  watches, 
and  I  was  surprised,  not  only  at  the  gentleness  and  tender 
ness  of  his  ministrations,  but  at  Swansford's  grateful  ac 
ceptance  of  them.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  the  latter  had 
sent  his  Art  in  advance,  into  the  coming  life,  and  was  con 
tent  with  human  kindness  and  sympathy  for  the  few  days 
of  this  which  remained. 

The  seeds  of  his  disease  were  no  doubt  born  with  him, 
and  their  roots  had  become  so  intertwined  with  those  of  his 
life  that  only  a  professional  eye  could  distinguish  between 
the  two.  The  impression  left  by  my  first  visit  was  that  he 
could  not  live  twenty-four  hours,  but  weeks  had  come  and 
gone,  and  his  condition  fluctuated  between  the  prospect 
of  speedy  death  and  the  delusive  hope  of  final  recovery. 
There  were  times,  even,  when  himself  was  deceived  and 
would  talk  cheerily  of  the  future.  Neither  of  us  knew  how 
contradictory  were  these  appearances,  and  that  they  should 
have  prepared  us  for  the  opposite  results. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  455 

One  evening  in  the  beginning  of  May,  when  Swansford's 
weakness  and  depression  had  reached  a  point  whence  it 
seemed  impossible  for  him  to  rally,  he  beckoned  me  to  his 
bedside.  His  voice  was  so  faint  that  the  words  died  away 
in  whispers,  but  his  face  wa>  troubled,  and  I  saw  from  the 
expression  of  his  eyes  that  he  had  a  communication  to  make. 
I  therefore  administered  a  stimulating  potion,  and  begged 
him  to  remain  quiet  until  he  felt  its  effects.  Presently  he 
was  able  to  point  to  the  upper  drawer  of  his  bureau,  and 
ask  me  to  bring  him  a  package  I  should  find  in  the  right-" 
hand  corner.  It  was  a  heavy  roll  of  paper,  carefully  tied 
and  sealed.  I  laid  it  beside  him  on  the  bed,  and  he  felt 
and  fondled  it  with  his  white,  wasted  fingers. 

"  Here  it  is,  Godfrey,"  he  whispered,  at  last.  "  My  sym 
phony  !  I  meant  to  have  held  it  in  my  arms,  in  my  coffin, 
and  let  it  go  to  dust  with  the  heart  and  the  brain  which 
created  it ;  but  now  it  seems  that  my  life  is  there,  not  here, 
in  my  body.  I  might  be  killing  something,  you  see,  that 
had  a  right  to  live.  God  knows  :  but  there  is  another  rea 
son.  It  belongs  to  her,  Godfrey.  Every  note  is  part  of  a 
history  which  she  alone  can  understand.  Let  her  read  it. 
I  honor  her  too  much  to  speak  or  write  to  her  while  I  live, 
but  there  is  no  infidelity  in  her  listening  to  the  voice  of  the 
dead.  Keep  it  until  you  have  buried  me  :  then  give  it  into 
her  hands." 

"  You  have  my  sacred  word,  Swansford,"  I  said ;  "  but 
you  must  tell  me  who  she  is  —  where  I  shall  find  her." 
"  It  is  written  there,  I  think.     But  you  know  her." 
I  feared  his  mind  was  wandering.     Taking  the  package 
I  held  it  to  the  light,  and,  after  sotne  search,  discovered, 
feebly  written  in  pencil,  the  words  :  "  Mrs.  Fanny  Deering, 
from  C.  S."     Of  all  the  surprises  of  my  life,  this  seemed  the 
greatest. 

"  Swansford  ! "  I  cried,  —  «  is  it  really  she  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Godfrey  ;  don't  ask  me  anything  more  !  " 

He  closed  his  eyes,  as  if  to  enforce  silence.     After  a 


456  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

while  he  seemed  to  sleep,  and  I  leaned  back  in  the  rock 
ing-chair  which  Mrs.  Very  had  kindly  provided  for  the 
watchers,  busying  my  brain  with  speculations.  I  felt,  more 
deeply  than  ever,  the  tragic  close  of  Swansford's  disap 
pointed  existence.  She  whom  he  had  loved  —  whom  he 
still  loved  with  the  despairing  strength  of  a  broken  heart 
—  who,  I  was  sure,  might  silence,  but  could  not  forget  the 
early  memories  which  linked  her  to  him  —  was  here,  within 
an  hour's  call  of  the  garret  where  he  lay  dying.  He  was 
already  within  the  sanctifying  shadow  of  the  grave,  and  the 
word,  the  look  of  tender  recognition  which  she  might  anti 
cipate  beyond,  could,  in  all  honor  and  purity,  be  granted  to 
him  now.  I  would  go  to  her  —  would  beg  her  to  see  him 
once  more  —  to  give  one  permitted  consecration  of  joy  to 
his  sad  remnant  of  life.  I  knew  that  he  did  not  dream  of 
such  an  interview,  —  probably  did  not  desire  it,  —  and 
therefore  it  was  best  to  keep  my  design  secret. 

In  the  morning  Swansford  had  rallied  a  little,  but  it  was 
evident  that  his  life  barely  hung  by  a  thread.  I  trembled 
with  anxiety  during  the  day,  as  I  performed  those  mechan 
ical  tasks  which  were  now  more  than  ever  necessary,  for 
his  sake,  and  hastened  rapidly  back  at  evening,  to  find  him 
still  alive,  and  in  Bob's  faithful  charge.  Then  I  set  out, 
at  once,  for  Mr.  Deering's  residence,  in  Fourteenth  Street. 

As  I  approached  the  house,  my  step  slackened  and  I  fell 
to  meditating,  not  only  on  my  errand,  which  I  felt  to  be  a 
matter  of  some  delicacy,  but  on  Mrs.  Deering's  apparent 
intimacy  with  Isabel  Haworth.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  I  had  not  seen  the  former  since  the  night  of  my  mys 
terious  repulse.  I  should  no  doubt  have  gone  to  her,  as 
soon  as  Custom  permitted,  but  for  my  ruinous  and  reckless 
course  of  life  :  she  might  possess  the  key  to  the  treatment 
I  had  received,  or,  if  not,  could  procure  it.  There  was  the 
hope  of  final  knowledge  in  the  present  renewal  of  my  ac 
quaintance,  and  thus  my  own  happiness  suggested  it,  no 
less  than  my  friend's. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  457 

I  was  but  a  few  paces  from  the  house  when  the  door 
opened  and  a  gentleman  came  out.  I  recognized  Penrose 
at  the  first  glance,  and  I  saw  that  he  also  recognized  me, 
before  he  reached  the  bottom  of  the  steps.  His  appear 
ance  in  the  house  of  Isabel  Haworth's  friend  started  a  thou 
sand  fierce  suspicions  in  my  breast.  He  had  won,  —  he 
was  the  fortunate  suitor  —  possibly  the  calumniator  to  whom 
I  owed  my  disgrace  !  I  stopped  and  would  have  turned, 
but  he  was  already  upon  me. 

"  Cousin  John,"  he  said,  and  there  was  a  tone  in  his  voice 
which  forced  me  to  stand  still  and  listen,  though  I  could 
not  take  his  offered  hand,  "  where  have  you  been  ?  I  tried 
to  find  you,  at  the  old  place,  but  your  landlady  almost  turned 
me  out  of  doors  for  asking.  I  thought  you  had  anticipated 
me  in  clearing  the  field.  Come,  don't  glower  at  me  in  that 
way,  man  !  we  can  shake  hands  again." 

He  took  mine  by  force. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  That  we  are  both  floored.  Floyd  told  me  you  had  re 
ceived  your  walking-papers  long  ago,  and  so  I  pushed  on 
—  to  get  mine.  You  were  right,  John  ;  I  did  leave  her  out 
of  the  account,  in  my  calculations.  But  I  never  saw  all 
that  I  had  lost  until  the  moment  of  losing  it.  There,  that 's 
enough  ;  we  need  n't  mention  her  any  more.  I  '11  write  to 
Matilda  to-morrow  to  find  a  brace  of  elegantly  finished 
machines,  with  the  hinges  of  their  tongues,  knees,  and 
ankles  well  oiled,  —  warranted  to  talk,  dance,  sit  in  a  car 
riage,  lounge  at  the  opera,  and  do  all  other  things  which 
patent  ladies  may  of  right  do.  You  shall  have  one,  and 
I'll  take  the  other." 

He  laughed  —  a  low,  bitter  laugh  of  disappointment. 

"  Alexander,"  I  said,  "  I  did  not  know  of  this  before.  I 
held  back  my  hand  because  I  feared  that  you  were  my 
fortunate  rival.  Now  I  give  it  to  you,  with  my  heart,  if 
you  will  take  it  after  I  have  said  one  more  word.  *  I  have 
not  ceased,  and  will  not  cease  to  love  Isabel  Haworth. 


458  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Something  has  come  between  us  which  I  cannot  yet  under 
stand,  but,  with  God's  help,  I  will  remove  it,  and  it  may  be 
-I  scarcely  hope,  Alexander,  but  it  may  be  —  that  her 
heart  shall  answer  to  mine.  Now,  will  you  take  my 
hand  ?  " 

He  looked  at  me,  a  moment,  in  silence.  Then  I  felt  my 
hand  locked  in  a  firm  grasp,  which  drew  me  nearer,  until 
our  faces  almost  touched.  His  eyes  read  mine,  and  his  lip 
trembled  as  he  spoke,  — 

"  God  bless  you,  John  !  I  was  right  to  fear  you,  but  it  is 
too  late  to  fear  you  now,  and  needless  to  hate  you.  I  can't 
wish  you  success,  —  that  would  be  more  than  human.  But 
since  she  is  lost  to  me  there  is  less  pain  in  the  knowledge 
that  you  should  win  her  than  another.  If  it  comes  I  shall 
not  see  it.  I  am  going  away,  and  it  will  be  some  comfort 
to  think  of  you  still  as  my  friend." 

"  Going  away  ? "  I  repeated  ;  "  you  will  leave  New  York 
—  give  up  your  business  ?  " 

"  No ;  my  excuse  is  also  my  necessity.  Dunn  and  Deer- 
ing  have  had  an  agency  in  San  Francisco  for  two  years 
past,  and  it  is  now  to  be  made  a  branch,  under  my  charge. 
The  matter  was  talked  of  before,  and  I  should  probably 
have  been  there  already,  but  for  —  well,  for  her.  We 
understand  each  other  now,  and  nothing  more  need  be 
said.  Try  to  think  kindly  of  me,  John,  though  you  may 
not  like  the  selfish  and  arbitrary  streak  I  have  inherited 
from  my  father ;  let  the  natures  of  our  mothers,  only, 
speak  to  each  other  in  us ! " 

I  had  kept  his  hand  in  mine  while  he  spoke.  Little  by 
little  I  was  growing  to  understand  his  powerful,  manly 
nature,  mixed  of  such  conflicting  elements,  and,  in  that 
comprehension,  to  feel  how  powerless  were  his  coveted 
advantages  of  beauty,  energy,  and  fortune,  in  the  struggle 
for  happiness.  Again  I  turned  to  my  own  past  history 
with  shame.  The  three  men  nearest  to  me  —  Penrose, 
Swansford,  and  Bob  Simmons  —  were  equally  unfortunate, 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  459 

yet  each  courageously  met  his  destiny,  while  I  alone  had 
acted  the  part  of  a  coward  and  a  fool.  I  saw  how  shallow 
had  been  my  judgment,  how  unjust  my  suspicions,  and  the 
old,  boyish  affection  for  my  cousin  came  back  to  my  heart. 

"  Alexander,"  I  said,  "  I  will  remember  you  as  a  brother. 
If  I  ever  thought  unkindly  of  you,  it  was  because  I  did 
not  know  you  truly.  God  bless  and  keep  you  ! " 

He  was  gone,  and  I  stood  at  the  door.  Our  meeting 
had  given  me  strength  and  courage,  and  I  sought  at  once 
an  interview  with  Mrs.  Deering. 

She  entered  the  room  with  a  colder  and  statelier  air 
than  I  had  before  noticed  in  her.  I  felt,  however,  only  the 
solemn  importance  of  my  errand,  and  the  necessity  of  com 
municating  it  without  delay.  I  therefore  disregarded  her 
somewhat  formal  gesture,  inviting  me  to  be  seated,  stepped 
nearer  to  her,  and  said,  — 

"  Mrs.  Deering,  you  will  pardon  me  if  I  commit  an  indis 
cretion  in  what  I  have  to  say.  It  concerns  a  very  dear 
friend  of  mine  who  was  once  a  friend  of  yours,  —  Charles 
Swansford !  " 

She  started  slightly,  and  seemed  about  to  speak,  but  I 
went  on. 

"  He  is  lying  on  his  death-bed,  Mrs.  Deering.  He  may 
have  but  a  day  —  nay,  perhaps  only  an  hour  —  to  live.  He 
placed  in  my  charge  a  musical  work  of  his  own  composi 
tion,  to  be  delivered  to  you  after  his  death ;  but  I  have 
come  now,  unknown  to  him,  to  tell  you  that  I  believe  no 
greater  blessing  could  be  granted  to  his  last  moments  than 
the  sight  of  your  face  and  the  sound  of  your  voice.  I  need 
not  say  anything  more  than  this.  If  your  heart  inclines 
you  to  fulfil  my  wish,  —  mine,  remember,  not  Ms,  —  I  am 
ready  to  conduct  you.  If  not,  he  will  never  know  that  I 
have  spoken  it." 

Her  cold  dignity  was  gone ;  pale  and  trembling,  she 
leaned  upon  the  back  of  a  chair.  Her  voice  was  faint 
and  broken.  "  You  know  what  he  is  —  was  —  to  me  ?  " 
she  said. 


460  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES, 

"  I  knew  it  last  night  for  the  first  time,  and  then  only 
because  he  thought  he  was  dying.  I  come  to  you  at  the 
command  of  my  own  conscience,  and  the  rest  must  be  left 
to  yours." 

"  I  will  go  !  "  she  exclaimed  ;  "  it  cannot  be  wrong  now. 
God,  who  sees  my  soul,  knows  that  I  mean  no  wrong  !  " 

"  No,  Mrs.  Deering ;  since  you  have  so  decided,  let  me 
say  to  you  that  my  poor  friend's  life  of  suffering  and 
despair  would  have  been  ignobly  borne  for  your  sake,  had 
you  refused  this  last,  pious  act  of  consolation." 

She  grasped  my  hand  in  hers,  crying,  through  her  start 
ing  tears,  —  "  Thank  you,  Mr.  Godfrey  !  You  have  acted 
as  a  true  friend  to  him  and  me.  Let  us  go  at  once  !  " 

Her  carriage  was  ordered,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
we  were  on  the  way  to  Hester  Street.  She  leaned  back  in 
the  corner,  silent,  with  clasped  hands,  during  the  ride,  and 
when  we  reached  the  door  was  so  overcome  by  her  agita 
tion  that  I  was  almost  obliged  to  lift  her  from  the  carriage. 
I  conducted  her  first  to  my  own  room,  and  then  entered 
Swansford's,  to  prepare  him  for  the  interview. 

He  had  been  sleeping,  and  awoke  refreshed ;  his  voice 
was  weak,  but  clear,  and  his  depressed,  unhappy  mood 
seemed  to  be  passing  away.  I  sat  down  beside  him  on  the 
bed,  and  took  his  hand  in  mine. 

"  Swansford,"  I  said,  "  if  you  could  have  one  wish  ful 
filled  now,  what  would  it  be  ?  If,  of  all  persons  you  have 
ever  known,  one  might  come  to  visit  you,  whom  would  you 
name  ?  " 

A  bright,  wistful  gleam  flitted  over  his  face  a  moment 
and  then  died  out.  "  No  one,"  he  sighed. 

"  But  there  is  some  one,  Swansford,  —  one  who  waits 
your  permission  to  come  to  you.  Will  you  admit  her  ?  " 

"Her?" 

His  voice  was  like  a  cry,  and  such  a  wild,  eager,  wonder 
ing  expression  flashed  into  his  features  that  I  beckoned  to 
Bob  and  we  stole  out  of  the  room.  Then  I  opened  the 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  461 

door  for  Mrs.  Deering,  and  closed  it  softly  behind  her, 
leaving  them  alone. 

Do  you  ask  what  sacred  phrases  of  tenderness,  what  con 
fession  of  feelings  long  withheld,  what  reciprocal  repent 
ance  and  forgiveness,  were  crowded  into  that  interview  ? 
I  would  not  reveal  them  if  I  knew.  There  are  some 
experiences  of  human  hearts,  in  which  God  claims  the 
exclusive  right  of  possession,  and  I  will  not  profanely  ven 
ture  into  their  sanctities. 

Bob  and  I  sat  together  in  my  room,  talking  in  low  tones, 
until  more  than  an  hour  had  passed.  Then  we  heard  the 
door  of  Swansford's  room  move,  and  I  stepped  forward  to 
support  Mrs.  Deering's  tottering  steps.  I  placed  her  in 
a  chair,  and  hastened  to  ascertain  Swansford's  condition 
before  accompanying  her  to  her  home.  His  wasted  face 
reposed  upon  the  pillow  in  utter,  blissful  exhaustion  ;  his 
eyes  were  closed,  but  tears  had  stolen  from  under  the  lids 
and  sparkled  on  his  white  cheeks. 

"  Swansford,"  I  said,  kneeling  beside  him,  "  do  you  for 
give  me  for  what  I  have  done  ? " 

He  smiled  with  ineffable  sweetness,  gently  drew  my  head 
nearer,  and  kissed  me. 

When  I  left  Mrs.  Deering  at  her  door,  she  said  to  me,  — 
"  I  must  ask  your  forgiveness,  Mr.  Godfrey  :  I  fear  I  have 
done  you  injustice  in  my  thoughts.  If  it  is  so,  and  the 
fancies  I  have  had  are  not  idle,'  I  will  try  to  save  you 
from"  — 

She  paused.  Her  words  were  incomprehensible,  but 
when  I  would  have  begged  an  explanation,  she  read  the 
question  in  my  face  before  it  was  uttered,  and  hastily  ex 
claimed,  as  she  gave  me  her  hand,  —  "  No,  no  ;  not  to-night. 
Leave  me  now,  if  you  please  ;  but  I  shall  expect  to  see 
you  every  day  while  —  he  lives." 

As  I  walked  homewards,  pondering  on  the  event  of  the 
evening,  it  was  easy  to  perceive  a  connection  between  the 
formal  air  with  which  Mrs.  Deering  had  received  me  and 


462  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

her  parting  words.  I  surmised  that  she  had  heard  some 
thing  to  my  disadvantage,  either  from  Miss  Haworth,  or 
from  the  same  source  as  the  latter,  and  thus  the  clue  I 
sought  seemed  about  to  be  placed  in  my  hand.  I  should 
no  longer  be  the  victim  of  a  mysterious,  intangible  hostility, 
but,  knowing  its  form,  could  arm  myself  to  overcome  it. 
Hope  stole  back  into  my  heart,  and  set  the  suppressed 
pulses  of  love  to  beating. 

From  the  close  of  that  interview  Swansford's  condition 
seemed  to  be  entirely  changed.  The  last  drop  of  bitterness 
was  washed  out  of  his  nature ;  he  was  calm,  resigned,  and 
happy.  He  allowed  me  to  send  a  message  to  his  mother 
and  sisters,  which  he  had  previously  refused,  and  lingered 
long  enough  to  see  them  at  his  bedside.  He  had  insisted 
on  being  laid  in  an  unmarked  grave,  among  the  city's  poor, 
but  now  he  consented  that  his  body  should  be  taken  to  his 
Connecticut  home  and  placed  beside  its  kindred.  The 
last  few  days  of  his  life  were  wholly  peaceful  and  serene. 

"  He  's  an  angel  a'ready, "  Bob  said,  and  so  we  all  felt. 
The  decay  of  his  strength  became  so  regular  towards  the 
close  that  the  physician  was  able  to  predict  the  hour  when 
it  would  cease.  We,  who  knew  it,  were  gathered  together, 
around  the  unconscious  sufferer,  who  had  asked  to  be  raised 
and  supported,  in  almost  a  sitting  posture.  His  eyes  wan 
dered  from  one  face  to  another,  with  a  look  too  far  removed 
from  earth  to  express  degrees  of  affection.  All  at  once 
his  lips  moved,  and  he  began  to  sing :  — 

"  His  songs  are  hushed,  his  music  fled, 
And  amaranth  cro wns " 

There  his  voice  stopped,  and  his  heart  stopped  with  it. 

I  went  to  Connecticut  with  his  family,  and  saw  the  last 
rites  performed  in  the  green  little  church-yard  among  the 
hills.  Then  I  left  his  cheated  hopes,  his  thwarted  ambition, 
his  shattered  life  to  moulder  there,  believing  that  Divine 
Mercy  had  prepared  a  compensation  for  him  in  the  eternal 
spheres. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  463 

Mrs.  Deering's  explanation,  delayed  by  my  constant  at 
tendance  during  the  last  days,  and  the  solemn  duties  which 
followed,  came  at  last ;  but  it  was  not  so  satisfactory  as  I 
had  hoped.  All  that  I  could  clearly  ascertain  was  that 
Miss  Haworth  had  heard  something  —  knew,  indeed,  the 
latter  had  declared  to  Mrs.  Deering  —  to  iny  prejudice, 
and  had  prohibited  all  mention  of  my  name.  Mrs.  Deer- 
ing  naturally  trusted  to  her  friend's  judgment,  and  my 
absence  from  a  house  where  I  had  been  so  cordially  re 
ceived,  confirmed  her  in  the  belief  that  her  own  vague 
suspicions  must  have  a  basis  in  reality.  It  was  not  neces 
sary,  she  said,  to  mention  them ;  she  had  heard  nothing, 
knew  nothing,  except  that  Miss  Haworth  considered  me 
unworthy  of  her  acquaintance.  She  was  now  convinced 
that  there  was  a  mistake  somewhere,  and  it  should  be  her 
duty  to  assist  in  clearing  up  the  mystery. 

Mrs.  Deering  also  informed  me  of  another  circumstance 
which  had  occurred  some  weeks  before.  Miss  Haworth  had 
left  her  step-father's  house  very  suddenly,  and  gone  alone 
to  Boston,  where  she  had  relatives.  It  was  rumored  — 
but  on  what  grounds  nobody  knew  —  that  when  she  re 
turned,  it  would  not  be  to  Gramercy  Park.  There  must 
have  been  some  disturbance,  for  she,  Mrs.  Deering,  her 
most  intimate  friend,  would  otherwise  have  heard  from  her. 
She  was  on  the  point  of  writing,  to  inquire  into  the  truth 
of  the  rumor,  when  my  visit,  and  the  excitement  and  pre 
occupation  of  her  mind  with  Swansford's  fate,  had  driven 
the  subject  from  her  thoughts.  Now,  however,  she  would 
lose  no  time.  If  the  story  were  true,  she  would  offer  Miss 
Haworth  a  temporary  home  in  her  own  house. 

During  these  conversations,  it  was  natural  that  my  ex 
treme  anxiety  to  ascertain  the  nature  of  my  presumed 
offence,  and  to  be  replaced,  if  possible,  in  Miss  Haworth's 
good  opinion,  should  betray  its  true  cause.  I  knew  that 
Mrs.  Deering  read  my  heart  correctly,  and  added  her  hopes 
to  mine,  although  the  subject  was  not  openly  mentioned 


464  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

between  us.  She  was  never  weary  of  recounting  the  noble 
womanly  virtues  of  her  friend,  nor  was  I  ever  weary  of 
listening.  The  two  women  had  been  educated  in  the  same 
school,  and  were  familiar  with  the  circumstances  of  each 
other's  lives.  I  thus  made  good  progress  in  the  knowledge 
of  my  beloved,  even  though  she  was  absent  and  estranged- 
While  Mrs.  Deering  was  waiting  for  an  answer  from 
Boston,  Penrose  sailed  for  California.  The  evening  before 
his  departure  we  spent  together.  Upon  one  subject  there 
was  a  tacit  understanding  of  silence,  but  on  all  others  we 
were  free  and  candid  as  brothers.  With  him  went  a  portion 
of  my  life  which  I  resolved  must  be  renewed  in  the  future, 
but  when  or  how  was  as  indefinite  as  the  further  course  of 
my  own  fortunes. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  465 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

WHICH    BRINGS    MY    FORTUNE    AT    LAST. 

THROUGH  all  the  period  of  agitation  which  I  have  just 
described  I  adhered  faithfully  to  my  work,  and  in  spite  of 
the  demands  upon  my  purse  for  poor  Swansford's  necessi- 
sities  (and  they  were  gladly  answered),  I  slowly  recovered 
my  lost  position  of  independence.  Bob's  generous  loan 
was  returned,  I  was  free  of  other  debt,  and  possessed  once 
more  an  assured  and  sufficient  income.  Those  months  of 
vagabondage  seemed  like  a  dark,  uneasy  dream,  in  the 
steady  light  of  resolution  which  now  filled  my  life ;  it  was 
as  if  a  sultry  haze  in  which  the  forms  of  Good  and  Evil 
were  blended,  and  the  paths  of  order  and  of  license  be 
come  an  inextricable  labyrinth,  had  been  blown  away,  leav 
ing  the  landscape  clearer  than  ever  before.  I  will  not  say 
that  all  temptations  died,  or  no  longer  possessed  a  formi 
dable  power  ;  but  I  was  able  to  recognize  them  under  what 
ever  mask  they  approached,  and  patient  to  wait  for  the  day 
when  each  conditional  sin  of  the  senses  should  resolve  it 
self  into  a  permitted  bounty. 

On  one  subject  alone  I  was  not  patient,  and  my  disap 
pointment  was  extreme  when  Mrs.  Deering  informed  me 
that  she  had  received  a  letter  from  Boston  stating  only 
that  the  rumor  was  true,  —  Miss  Haworth  would  not  return 
to  her  step-father's  house  in  Gramercy  Park.  She  would 
accept  her  friend's  invitation  when  she  came  back  to  New 
York,  —  probably  in  a  fortnight,  or  thereabouts.  There 
was  a  hint,  it  was  true,  of  further  confidences,  when  they 
should  meet.  I  begged  Mrs.  Deering  to  write  again,  and 
30 


466  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

ask,  at  least,  an  explanation  of  the  mystery  in  which  I  was 
concerned.  It  was  her  right,  I  insisted,  since  she  now  per 
mitted  me  to  call  myself  her  friend. 

Four  days  afterwards,  on  returning  to  my  lodgings  late 
at  night,  after  the  completion  of  my  editorial  labors,  I  found 
a  small  note  upon  my  table.  It  was  addressed  in  a  woman's 
hand,  which  struck  my  eye  as  familiar,  although  it  was  not 
Mrs.  Deering's,  and  I  had  long  since  ceased  to  receive 
notes  from  any  other  lady,  —  even  from  Adeliza  Choate.  I 
opened  it  carelessly  and  read  :  — 

"  I  -  have  judged  you  unjustly,  and  treated  you  rudely, 
Mr.  Godfrey.  If  I  have  not  forfeited  the  right  to  make 
reparation,  or  you  have  not  lost  the  desire  to  receive  it, 
will  you  call  upon  me  to-morrow  evening,  at  Mrs.  Deer- 
ing's,  and  oblige 

ISABEL  HA  WORTH." 

I  am  not  certain  what  I  did  during  the  next  ten  minutes 
after  reading  this  note  ;  but  I  have  a  dim  recollection  of 
sinking  on  my  knees  at  the  bedside,  and  bowing  my  head 
on  the  coverlet,  as  my  mother  had  taught  me  to  do  when  a 
little  boy.  The  work  for  which  I  had  been  trying  to  arm 
myself  was  already  done.  It  mattered  not  now  who  was 
the  enemy,  nor  what  the  weapon  he  had  used  against  me ; 
she  confessed  her  injustice,  —  confessed  it  fully,  directly, 
and  honorably,  as  became  her  nature.  The  only  prayer  to 
which  I  could  bend  my  mind,  before  yielding  to  sleep  that 
night,  was,  "  God,  give  me  Isabel  Haworth  ! " 

The  next  morning  I  wrote  the  single  line,  — 

"  I  will  come. 

JOHN  GODFREY."  — 

and  carried  it  to  Fourteenth  Street  myself,  unwilling  to 
trust  the  fate  of  the  message  to  other  hands.  That  day 
was  the  longest  of  my  life.  It  was  hard  to  force  my  mind 
into  its  habitual  harness,  and  go  over  the  details  of  a  new 
sugar-refinery  which  was  to  be  described  for  the  morrow's 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  467 

paper,  when  my  imagination  was  busy  with  the  rippled  hair 
and  the  soft  violet  eyes  I  had  so  long  missed. 

Let  me  overlook  the  memory  of  that  gnawing  impatience 
and  hasten  forward  to  the  evening.  At  the  earliest  mo 
ment  permitted  by  the  habits  of  society,  I  presented  myself 
at  Mrs.  Deering's  door,  and  sent  my  name  to  Miss  Ha\vorth. 
I  had  not  long  to  wait ;  she  came  into  the  room  taller,  it 
seemed  to  me,  and  more  imposing  in  her  presence,  —  but 
it  was  only  the  queenly  air  of  right  and  justice  which  en 
veloped  her.  The  sweet,  frank  face  was  pale,  but  firm, 
and  the  eyes  did  not  droop  or  waver  an  instant,  as  they  met 
my  gaze.  I  forgot  everything  but  the  joy  of  seeing  her 
again,  of  being  restored  to  her  society,  and  went  forward 
to  meet  her,  as  if  nothing  had  occurred  since  our  last 
parting. 

But  she  stopped  and  held  me,  by  some  subtle  influence, 
from  giving  her  the  hand  I  was  about  to  extend.  "  Wait, 
if  you  please,  Mr.  Godfrey,"  she  said.  "  Before  I  can  allow 
you  to  meet  me  as  a  friend,  —  even  if  you  are  generous 
enough  to  forgive,  unexplained,  the  indignity  with  which  I 
have  treated  you,  —  you  must  hear  how  far  I  have  suffered 
myself  to  be  misled  by  representations  and  appearances  to 
do  cruel  wrong  to  your  character  as  a  man." 

She  stood  so  firm  and  resolute  before  me,  bending  her 

O 

womanly  pride  to  the  confession  of  injustice  with  a  will  so 
noble  that  my  heart  bowed  down  at  her  feet  and  did  her 
homage.  It  was  enough ;  I  would  spare  her  the  rest  of  her 
voluntary  reparation. 

"  Miss  Haworth,"  I  said,  "  let  it  end  here.  You  have  al 
ready  admitted  that  you  judged  me  wrongly,  and  I  ask  no 
more.  I  do  not  seek  to  know  what  were  your  reasons  for 
denying  me  the  privilege  of  your  —  acquaintance ;  it  is 
enough  to  know  that  they  are  now  removed." 

"  It  is  not  enough  ! "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  claim  to  be  ac 
countable  for  every  act  of  my  Iffe.  You  have  a  right  to 
demand  an  explanation  ;  you  would  demand  it  from  a  gen- 


468  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

tleman,  and  I  am  not  willing  to  shelter  myself  under  that 
considerate  sentiment  towards  our  sex  which  would  spare 
me  a  momentary  humiliation,  by  depriving  me  of  the  op 
portunity  of  satisfying  my  sense  of  justice.  Be  candid,  Mr. 
Godfrey,  and  confess  that  the  unexplained  wrong  would 
rest  uneasily  in  your  memory." 

Her  sense  of  truth  struck  deeper  than  my  instinct  of  the 
moment.  I  felt  that  she  was  right ;  it  was  better  that 
everything  should  be  told  now,  and  the  Past  made  clear, 
for  the  sake  of  the  Future. 

"  It  is  true,"  I  said.  "  I  am  ready  to  hear  all  that  you 
consider  necessary  to  be  told." 

She  paused  a  moment,  but  not  from  hesitation.  She 
was  only  considering  how  to  begin.  When  she  spoke,  her 
voice  was  calm  and  steady,  and  I  felt  that  the  purpose 
which  prompted  her  was  but  the  natural  suggestion  of  her 
heart. 

"  I  believe  that  one's  instincts  are  generally  true,  and 
therefore  I  presume  you  already  suspect  that  my  step 
brother,  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd,  is  no  friend  of  yours  ?  " 

I  bowed  in  assent. 

"Although  I  had  no  reason  to  attach  much  weight  to 
Mr.  Floyd's  opinions,  I  will  admit  that  other  circumstances 
had  shaken  my  faith,  for  a  time,  in  the  sincerity  and  hon 
esty  of  men ;  that  I  was  —  perhaps  morbidly  —  suspicious, 
and  hence  his  insinuations  in  regard  to  yourself,  though  not 
believed,  disposed  me  to  accept  other  causes  for  belief.  They 
assumed  to  be  based  on  certain  circumstances  which  he 
had  discovered,  and,  therefore,  when  another  circumstance, 
seeming  to  confirm  them  most  positively,  came  under  my 
own  observation,  I  did  believe.  It  was  a  shallow,  hasty, 
false  judgment,  —  how  false,  I  only  discovered  a  few  weeks 
ago.  I  am  ashamed  of  myself,  for  the  truth  bids  me  honor 
you  for  the  very  act  which  I  interpreted  to  your  shame." 

Her  words  were  brave  and  noble,  but  I  did  not  yet  under 
stand  their  application.  I  felt  my  cheeks  glow  and  my 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  469 

heart  throb  with  happiness  at  hearing  my  own  praise  from 
her  lips.  She  paused  again,  but  I  would  not  interrupt  her 
confession. 

"  You  may  remember,"  she  continued,  "  having  called 
upon  me,  shortly  after  my  return  from  the  Northwest. 
Mr.  Penrose  was  there  at  the  same  time,  and  you  left  the 
house  together.  My  step-brother  came  into  the  room  as 
you  were  taking  leave.  He  was  already  in  the  habit  of 
making  depreciative  remarks  when  your  name  happened 
to  be  mentioned;  but  on  that  evening  he  seemed  par 
ticularly  exasperated  at  your  visit.  It  is  not  necessary  for 
me  to  repeat  all  that  he  said,  —  the  substance  of  it  was 
that  your  habits  of  life  rendered  you  unfit  for  the  society 
of  ladies,  —  that  he,  being,  by  the  relation  between  our 
parents,  permitted  to  look  upon  himself  as  my  protector, 
warned  me  that  any  appearance  of  friendship  towards  you, 
on  my  part,  would  occasion  me  embarrassment,  if  not  in 
jury.  I  could  not  reconcile  his  assertion  with  the  impres 
sion  of  your  character  which  I  had  derived  from  my  pre 
vious  acquaintance  with  you ;  but,  as  I  said  before,  Mr. 
Godfrey,  I  had  had  unpleasant  experiences  of  human  self 
ishness  and  hypocrisy,  —  my  situation,  indeed,  seemed  to 
expose  me  to  such  experiences,  —  and  I  became  doubtful 
of  my  own  judgment.  Then  came  a  singular  chance,  —  in 
which,  without  my  will,  I  played  the  spy  upon  your  actions, 
and  saw,  as  I  supposed,  the  truth  of  all  Mr.  Floyd  had 
declared." 

My  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  face,  following  her  words 
with  breathless  interest.  Not  yet  could  I  imagine  the  act 
or  acts  to  which  she  referred.  I  saw,  however,  that  the 
coming  avowal  required  an  effort  of  courage,  and  felt, 
dimly,  that  the  honor  and  purity  of  her  woman's  nature 
were  called  upon  to  meet  it. 

"  You  have  saved  a  woman,"  she  said,  "  and  it  should  not 
be  hard  for  me  to  render  simple  justice  to  a  man.  I  passed 
Washington  Square  one  evening,  Mr.  Godfrey,  when  you 


470  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

were  there  to  hear  the  story  of  an  unfortunate  girl.  I  saw 
you  endeavoring  to  help  and  console  her,  —  supporting  her 
with  your  arm,  —  but  I  could  hear  neither  your  words  nor 
hers.  I  trusted  only  to  the  evidence  of  my  eyes,  and  they 
confirmed  all  that  I  had  heard  against  you." 

"  What ! "  I  exclaimed,  "  how  was  it  possible  ?  " 

"  I  was  in  my  carriage,  bound  on  an  errand  which  took 
me  to  the  corner  opposite  the  lamp  under  which  you  stood. 
As  the  coachman  pulled  up  his  horses,  you  moved  away 
under  the  trees,  as  if  fearful  of  being  observed.  The 
duplicity  of  your  nature  (as  I  took  it  to  be)  seemed  to  me 
all  the  darker  and  more  repulsive  from  your  apparent  frank 
ness  and  honesty ;  I  was  tired  of  similar  discoveries,  and 
I  resolved,  from  that  moment  that  I  would  know  you  no 
longer.  It  is  my  habit  to  act  upon  impulse,  and  I  seized 
the  first  opportunity  which  occurred,  —  with  what  injustice, 
what  rudeness  I  did  not  suspect  until  I  learned  the  truth. 
I  have  tried  to  be  as  swift  to  atone  as  I  was  to  injure,  but 
you  were  not  to  be  found ;  I  knew  not  where  a  word  from 
me  might  reach  you  until  I  received  Mrs.  Deering's  last 
letter." 

"  Miss  Haworth ! "  I  cried,  "  say  no  more  !  you  have 
acted  nobly,  —  generously.  I  never  accused  you  in  my 
heart,  —  never."  The  next  word  would  have  betrayed  my 
passion.  I  held  it  back  from  my  lips  with  a  mighty  effort, 
but  took  her  hand,  bent  my  head  over  it  and  kissed  it. 
When  I  looked  up  her  eyes  drooped,  and  the  clear  lines 
of  her  face  were  overspread  with  a  wonderful  softness  and 
sweetness. 

"  Tell  me  only,"  I  said,  "  how  you  learned  anything  more ; 
who  gave  you  an  account  of  my  interview  with  "  — 

I  paused  involuntarily.  Her  eyes  were  lifted  steadily  to 
mine,  and  she  completed  the  unfinished  sentence,  — 

"  Jane  Berry.  From  whom  could  I  learn  her  story  but 
from  herself?  She  has  told  me  all.  It  was  she  who  went 
in  my  behalf  to  search  for  you." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  471 

It  was  my  turn  to  drop  my  eyes.  Had  Jane  Berry  in 
deed  told  her  all  f  No,  it  could  not  be ;  for  in  that  case 
Miss  Haworth  might  not  have  been  so  anxious  to  make 
reparation.  She  now  overvalued  as  much  as  she  had 
before  undervalued  my  nature.  What  I  seemed,  in  her 
pure,  just  eyes,  I  guessed  with  pain,  as  I  remembered  what 
I  had  been.  But  the  mystery  was  not  yet  entirely  clear ; 
I  thrust  back  the  memory  of  my  shame,  and  questioned  her 
again,— 

"  How  did  you  meet  Jane  Berry  ?  " 

To  my  surprise,  Miss  Haworth  seemed  embarrassed  what 
answer  to  give.  She  was  silent  a  moment,  and  a  light, 
rosy  flush  came  into  her  face.  Then  she  said,  — 

"  Is  it  not  enough,  Mr.  Godfrey,  that  I  have  met  her  ?  — 
that  I  am  trying  to  help  her,  as  my  duty  bids  me  ?  " 

In  what  followed,  I  obeyed  an  irresistible  impulse. 
Whence  it  came,  I  cannot  tell ;  I  was  hurried  along  by 
a  leap  of  the  heart,  so  rapid  that  there  was  no  time  left 
to  ask  whither  it  was  precipitating  me.  But  the  love 
nourished  so  long  and  sweetly,  assailed  by  rivalry,  sud 
denly  hurled  back,  half  held  in  check  by  the  efforts  of 
an  immature  will,  and  outraged  by  evil  courses,  now  reas 
serted  its  mastery  over  me,  filled  and  penetrated  my  being 
with  its  light  and  warmth,  shone  from  my  eyes,  and  trem 
bled  on  my  tongue.  I  was  powerless  to  stay  its  expression. 
All  thought  of  the  disparity  of  our  condition,  of  the  con 
trast  between  her  womanly  purity  and  nobility  and  my  un- 
worthiness  as  a  man,  vanished  from  my  mind.  I  only  felt 
that  we  stood  face  to  face,  heart  before  heart,  and  from  the 
overbrimming  fulness  of  mine,  I  cried,  — 

"  I  know  what  you  think,  Miss  Haworth,  —  how  kindly 
you  judge  me.  I  know,  still  better,  how  little  claim  I  have 
to  be  honored  in  your  thoughts,  and  yet  I  dare,  —  how  shall 
I  say  it  ?  —  dare  to  place  myself  where  only  your  equal  in 
truth  and  in  goodness  ought  to  stand !  I  should  give  you 
time  to  know  me  better  before  telling  you,  as  I  must,  that 


• 
472  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

I  love  you,  —  love  you !  Not  first  now,  but  long  before 
I  seemed  to  have  lost  you,  and  ever  since,  in  spite  of  its 
hopelessness.  I  cannot  thank  you  without  betraying  what 
is  in  my  heart.  I  did  not  think  to  say  this  to-night ;  I  came, 
too  happy  in  the  knowledge  that  you  called  me  back,  to 
dream  of  asking  more,  but  your  presence  brings'  to  my 
lips  the  words  that  may  banish  me  forever.  I  ask  nothing ; 
love  cannot  be  begged.  I  have  no  reason  to  hope ;  yet, 
Isabel  Haworth,  I  love  you,  and  believe  that  you  will  par 
don  if  you  cannot  bless  ! " 

A  silence  followed  my  words.  I  stood  with  bent  head, 
as  if  awaiting  a  blow,  while  the  gas-light  fluttered  and  hum 
med  in  the  chandelier  above  us.  Presently  a  soft  voice  — 
my  heart  stood  still,  listening  to  its  perfect  music  —  stole 
upon  the  hush  of  the  room. 

"  I  knew  it  already." 

"  Then,"  —  but  I  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  Our  eyes 
met,  and  tremulous  stars  of  twilight  glimmered  through  the 
violet  of  hers.  Our  hands  met,  and  of  themselves  drew  us 
together ;  drunken  and  blinded  with  happiness,  I  felt  the 
sweetness  of  her  lips  yield  itself,  unshrinkingly,  to  mine. 
Then  my  arms  folded  themselves  about  her  waist,  her  hands 
clasped  my  neck,  my  cheek  caressed  the  silken,  rippled 
gold  of  her  temples,  and  I  sighed,  from  the  depth  of  a 
grateful  soul,  —  "  Oh,  thank  God  !  thank  God  !  " 

She  felt  the  touch  of  the  tear  that  sparkled  on  her  hair. 
Once  more  I  pressed  my  lips  to  her  pure  brow,  and  whis 
pered,  —  "  Tell  me,  is  it  true,  Isabel  ?  " 

She  lifted  her  head  and  smiled,  as  we  tried  to  see  each 
other's  hearts  in  the  dim  mirror  of  either's  eyes. 

"  I  knew  it,"  she  repeated,  "  but  I  also  knew  something 
more.  Oh,  it  is  blessed  to  find  rest  at  last ! " 

Then  she  slipped  from  my  arms,  and  sank  into  a  chair, 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  I  knelt  down  beside 
her,  caressing  her  lovely  head.  "  I  thought  I  had  lost  you," 
she  murmured  ;  "  I  did  not  venture  to  hope  that  you  would 
forgive  me  so  easily." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES-  473 

"  Darling  ! "  I  exclaimed,  taking  her  hand  in  mine,  —  "I 
never  accused  you.  I  knew  that  something  had  crept  be 
tween  us,  which  I  could  not  remove  until  I  should  discover 
its  nature.  Until  to-night  I  have  been  ignorant  of  your 
reason  for  my  dismissal.  Had  I  suspected,  —  had  you 
given  me  a  chance  "  — 

"  Ah,"  she  interrupted  me,  "  you  will  understand  my 
abruptness  now  !  It  was  because  I  loved  you,  then,  John, 
that  I  felt  outraged  and  humiliated  —  that  I  resolved  never 
to  see  you  again.  You,  of  all  the  young  men  I  knew,  seemed 
to  me  earnest  and  sincere  ;  I  trusted  in  you,  from  the  start, 
and  just  as  I  began  to  hope  —  as  you  hoped,  John  —  came 
this  blow  to  both  of  us.  It  could  not  have  cost  you  more 
to  bear  than  it  cost  me  to  inflict.  Are  you  sure  you  have 
pardoned  me  ?  " 

"  Isabel ! "  was  all  the  reply  I  could  make,  except  that 
wonderful  speech  of  the  silent,  meeting  lips. 

My  bliss  was  too  pure,  too  perfect  to  be  long  enjoyed 
without  disturbance.  Her  maidenly  courage,  her  frank 
and  fearless  confession  of  reciprocal  love,  filled  me  with  a 
double  trust  and  tenderness  ;  but  it  also  recalled,  ere  long, 
the  shrinking,  evasive  silence  of  the  false-hearted  Amanda. 
That  pitiful  episode  of  my  life  must  be  confessed  —  nor 
that  alone.  I  would  not  wrong  the  noble  confidence  of  my 
darling  by  allowing  her  to  think  me  better  than  I  was,  — 
or,  rather,  had  been  ;  for  now  the  highest  virtue,  the  stern 
est  self-denial,  seemed  little  to  pay  in  return  for  my  bless 
ing.  Ah,  had  I  found  it  but  to  lose  it  again  ?  This  under 
current  of  thought  drove  nearer  and  nearer  the  surface, 
clouding  the  golden  ether  I  breathed,  infusing  its  bitter 
drop  into  the  nectar  of  my  joy. 

"  Isabel,"  I  said,  "  I  dare  not  win  the  fortune  of  my  life 
so  easily.  I  have  been  weak  and  sinful ;  you  must  first 
hear  my  story,  and  then  decide  whether  it  is  fitting  that  I 
should  stand  beside  you.  I  owe  it  to  you  to  complete  your 
knowledge  of  myself." 


474  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  I  expected  nothing  less  from  you,  John,"  she  said.  "  It 
is  just :  nothing  in  cither's  experience  should  be  obscure  to 
the  other.  You  give  me  the  Present,  you  promise  me  the 
Future,  and  I  therefore  have  a  right  to  the  Past." 

She  spoke  so  firmly  and  cheerfully  that  my  heart  was 
reassured.  I  would  postpone  the  confession  until  our  next 
meeting,  and  indulge  myself,  for  this  one  sacred  evening, 
in  the  perfect  sweetness  of  my  bliss.  But  another  reflec 
tion  perversely  arose  to  trouble  me,  —  how  should  my  pov 
erty  consort  with  her  wealth  ?  How  should  I  convince  — 
not  her,  but  the  unbelieving  world  —  of  the  pure,  unselfish 
quality  of  my  affection  ?  Neither  would  I  speak  of  this  ; 
but  she  saw  the  shadow  of  the  thought  pass  over  my  face, 
and  archly  asked,  — 

"  What  else  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  I  said.  "  Your  place  in  the  world  is 
above  mine.  I  cannot  make  a  ladder  of  my  love,  and 
mount  to  the  ease  and  security  which  it  is  a  man's  duty  to 
create  for  himself.  Whatever  your  fortune  may  be,  you 
must  allow  me  to  achieve  mine.  The  difference  between 
us  is  an  accident  which  my  heart  does  not  recognize,  — 
would  to  God  there  were  only  this  difference  !  —  but  I  dare 
not  take  advantage  of  the  equality  of  love,  to  escape  a 
necessity,  which  it  is  best,  for  your  sake  as  well  as  my  own, 
that  I  should  still  accept.  You  understand  me,  Isabel  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,"  she  answered,  smiling.  "  Not  for  the  world's 
sake,  but  for  your  own,  I  agree  to  your  proposal.  An  idle 
life  would  not  make  you  happy,  and  I  ought  to  be  glad,  on 
my  part,  that  my  little  fortune  has  not  kept  us  apart.  So 
far,  it  has  rather  been  my  misfortune.  It  has  drawn  to  me 
the  false  love,  and  now  it  shall  not  be  allowed  to  rob  me 
of  the  true.  Do  not  let  this  thing  corne  between  our  hearts. 
If  it  were  yours,  you  would  share  it  with  me  and  I  should 
freely  enjoy  what  it  brings ;  but  a  man  is  proud  where  a 
woman  would  be  humble,  and  your  pride  is  a  part  of  your 
self,  and  I  love  you  as  you  are !  " 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  475 

"  God  grant  that  I  may  deserve  you  ! "  was  all  I  could 
say.  A  softer  and  holier  spirit  of  tenderness  descended 
upon  my  heart.  Now,  indeed,  might  my  mother  rejoice 
over  me,  in  her  place  amid  the  repose  of  heaven. 

Presently  there  was  a  gentle  knock  at  the  door,  and  a 
familiar  voice  said,  —  "  May  I  come  in  ?  " 

It  was  Mrs.  Deering,  whose  face  brightened  as  she  looked 
from  one  to  the  other.  She  said  nothing,  but  took  Isabel 
in  her  arms  and  kissed  her  tenderly.  Then  she  gave  me 
her  hand,  and  I  felt  sympathy  and  congratulation  in  its 
touch. 

"  It  is  cruel  in  me  to  interrupt  you,"  she  said,  when  we 
were  all  seated,  — "  but  do  you  know  how  long  I  have  left 
you  alone  ?  An  hour  and  three  quarters,  by  my  watch,  and 
I  was  sure,  Isabel,  that  you  had  long  ago  finished  making 
your  amende.  Mr.  Godfrey,  I  believe  this  girl  is  capable 
of  accepting  a  challenge.  I  should  think  her  a  man,  in  her 
courage  and  sense  of  right,  if  she  had  not  proved  herself 
such  a  dear,  good,  faithful  woman-friend  to  me.  Then,  I 
was  afraid,  Mr.  Godfrey,  that  you  might  slip  away  before  I 
could  tell  you  that  I  know  the  cause  of  Isabel's  misunder 
standing,  and  thank  you,  as  a  woman,  for  what  you  did. 
And  we  have  been  to  see  Mary  Maloney  this  afternoon,  and 
have  heard  your  praises  without  end." 

"  But  Jane  Berry  !  "  I  exclaimed,  to  cover  my  confusion  ; 
"  where  is  she  ?  I  must  see  her  again." 

"  I  have  found  a  quiet  place  for  her,  in  Harlem,"  Isabel 
replied.  "  But,  before  you  see  her,  you  must  know  how  I 
became  acquainted  with  her  and  her  story.  Only,  not  to 
night,  John,  pray ;  to-morrow,  —  you  will  come  again  to 
morrow  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  and  every  day,  until  the  day  when  I  shall 
cease  to  come,  because  I  shall  cease  to  go." 

Mrs.  Deering  laughed  and  clapped  her  hands  gleefully. 
"  I  see  how  it  is !  "  she  cried  ;  "  I  shall  lose  the  use  of  my 
parlor,  from  this  time  forth ;  but  the  interviews  must  be 


476  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

limited  to  two  hours.  At  the  end  of  that  time  I  shall  make 
my  appearance,  watch  in  hand.  Now,  good-night,  Mr. 
Godfrey,  —  good-night,  and  God  bless  you  !  " 

A  quick,  warm  pressure  of  the  hand,  and  she  stole  out 
of  the  room. 

"  She  has  told  me  all,"  said  Isabel,  turning  to  me,  "  and 
we  have  played  the  symphony,  and  wept  over  it  together. 
It  is  a  little  wild  and  incoherent,  but  there  is  the  beat  of  a 
breaking  heart  in  it  from  beginning  to  end.  You  were  a 
true  friend  to  him,  John ;  how  I  have  wronged  you !  " 

"  I  have  wronged  myself,"  I  exclaimed ;  "  but  we  will 
talk  no  more  of  that  now.  My  dear  Isabel  —  my  dear 
wife,  in  the  sight  of  Heaven,  say  once  more  that  you  love 
me,  and  I  will  keep  the  words  in  my  ear  and  in  my  heart 
until  we  meet  again !  " 

She  laid  her  arms  about  my  neck,  she  looked  full  in  my 
face  with  her  brave  and  lovely  eyes,  and  said,  —  "I  love 
you,  —  you  only,  now  and  forever."  Then,  heart  to  heart, 
and  lip  to  lip,  our  beings  flowed  together,  and  the  man's 
nature  in  me  received  the  woman's,  and  thenceforth  was 
truly  man. 

"  Stay  ! "  she  whispered,  when  I  would  have  left,  —  "  stay, 
one  moment ! "  She  glided  from  the  room,  but  returned 
almost  immediately,  with  a  slip  of  crumpled  paper  in  her 
hand. 

"  Here/'  she  said,  holding  it  towards  me,  — "  this  separated 
us,  this  brought  us  together  again.  It  can  do  no  further 
harm  or  service.  Let  me  burn  it,  and  with  it  the  mem 
ory  —  for  both  of  us  —  of  the  evening  when  it  was  writ 
ten." 

I  looked  at  it,  and  read,  with  indescribable  astonishment, 
the  words,  — "  Miss  Haworth  informs  Mr.  Godfrey  that 
her  acquaintance  with  him  has  ceased."  It  was  the  very 
note  I  had  received  that  evening  in  Gramercy  Park ! 

"  Isabel  !  what  does  this  mean  ? "  I  cried,  in  amaze 
ment. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  477 

She  smiled,  lighted  one  end  of  the  paper  at  the  gas- 
burner,  watched  it  slowly  consume,  and  threw  its  black, 
shrivelling  phantom  into  the  grate. 

"  It  belongs  to  the  story,"  she  said  ;  —  "  you  shall  hear 
everything  to-morrow.  Now  good-night !  " 


478  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

OF    WHICH   JANE    BERRY   IS    THE    HEROINE. 

ON  my  way  home,  under  stars  that  sang  together,  my  first 
thought  was  of  my  faithful  Bob.  It  was  already  a  late 
hour  for  a  man  of  his  habits,  but,  sleeping  or  waking,  I 
resolved  that  he  should  know  Jane  Berry  was  found.  I 
turned  out  of  the  Bowery  into  Stanton  Street,  hastened 
onward  with  winged  strides,  and  reached  the  door  breath 
less  with  impatience  and  joy. 

All  were  in  bed  except  the  journeyman's  wife,  who  was 
at  first  a  little  alarmed  at  my  untimely  visit.  I  reassured 
her,  declaring  that  I  brought  only  good  news,  borrowed  a 
candle  and  went  up-stairs  to  Bob's  room.  The  noise  of  my 
entrance  did  not  break  his  healthy,  profound  sleep.  I 
placed  the  light  on  the  mantel-piece,  took  my  seat  on  the 
edge  of  the  bed,  and  looked  on  the  plain,  rugged  face  I 
loved.  The  unconscious  features  betrayed  no  released 
expression  of  guile  or  cruelty :  there  was  honesty  on  the 
brow,  candor  on  the  full,  unwrinkled  eyelid,  and  goodness 
on  the  closed  lips.  Only  the  trouble  of  his  heart,  which  he 
would  not  show  by  day,  now  stole  to  the  light  and  saddened 
all  his  face. 

He  seemed  to  feel  my  steady  gaze,  even  in  sleep;  he 
sighed  and  tossed  his  arm  upon  the  coverlet.  I  seized  his 
hand,  and  held  it,  crying,  "  Bob  !  Bob  ! " 

His  eyes  were  open  in  an  instant.  "  Eh  ?  John  !  what 's 
the  matter  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  starting  up  in  bed. 

"  Nothing  wrong,  Bob.  I  would  n't  rouse  you  from  sleep 
to  hear  bad  news." 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  479 

"  John,  have  you  found  her  ?  " 

I  felt  the  pulses  in  the  hand  I  held  leaping  strong  and 
fast,  and  answered,  "  She  is  found.  I  have  not  seen  her, 
but  I  know  where  she  is,  —  under  the  best  protection,  with 
the  best  help,  —  far  better  than  mine  could  be,  Bob." 

He  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  his  fingers  uncon 
sciously  tightened  around  my  hand.  "  You  're  a  good 
friend,  John,"  he  said.  "  Stand  by  me  a  little  longer. 
You  're  smarter  at  thinkin'  than  I  am,  —  I  can  only  think 
with  my  hands,  you  know.  Tell  me  what  ought  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  Do  you  love  her  still,  Bob  ?" 

"  God  knows  I  do.  I  tried  hard  not  to,  after  you  told 
me  what  she  'd«done ;  but  I  could  n't  help  pityin'  her,  and, 
you  see,  that  built  up  the  feelin'  on  one  side  as  fast  as  I 
tore  it  down  on  t'  other.  But  then,  John,  there 's  the  dis 
grace.  My  name 's  as  good  to  me  as  the  next  man's,  and 
my  wife's  name  is  mine.  I  must  look  ahead  and  see  what 
may  come  —  if —  if  she  should  care  for  me  (which  I  'm  not 
sure  of),  and  I  should  forgive  her  folly.  Could  I  see  her 
p'inted  at,  —  could  I  bear  to  know  things  was  said,  even 
though  I  should  n't  hear  'em  ?  And  then,  —  that  would  be 
the  hardest  of  all,  —  could  I  be  the  father  o'  children  that 
must  be  ashamed  o'  their  mother  ?  I  tell  you,  my  head  's 
nigh  tired  out  with  tryin'  to  get  the  rights  o'  this  matter. 
I  'm  not  hard,  —  that  you  know,  —  and  I  could  forgive  her 
for  bein'  blindly  led  into  sin  that  a  man  does  with  his  eyes 
open,  if  there  was  more  men  that  think  as  I  do.  But  it 
is  n't  the  men,  after  all,  John ;  it 's  the  women  that  tear 
each  other  to  pieces  without  mercy  !  " 

"  Not  all,  Bob !  "  I  cried  ;  "  it  is  a  woman  who  protects 
her  now,  —  a  woman  who  knows  her  story,  —  and  oh,  Bob, 
that  woman  will  one  day  be  my  wife,  if  God  allows  me  so 
much  happiness ! " 

I  now  told  him,  for  the  first  time,  of  the  great  fortune 
which  had  come  to  me.  It  seemed  hard,  indeed,  to  intrude 
my  pure  bliss  upon  the  trouble  of  his  heart ;  but  his  nature 


480  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

was  too  sound  for  envy,  or  for  any  other  feeling  than  the 
heartiest  sympathy.  Encouraged  by  the  bright  congratu 
lation  of  his  face,  I.  allowed  my  heart  the  full  use  of  my 
tongue,  and  grew  so  selfish  in  my  happiness  that  I  might 
have  talked  all  night,  but  for  the  warning  sound  of  a  neigh 
boring  church-clock  striking  twelve.  Poor  Bob  had  thrust 
aside  his  own  interests  and  perplexities,  that  he  might 
rejoice  in  the  new  promise  of  my  life. 

I  broke  off  abruptly,  and  replied  to  his  first  question. 
"  Bob,"  I  said,  "  I  believe  Jane  Berry  is  still  uncorrupted  at 
heart.  I  believe,  also,  that  the  conviction  of  having  lost 
you  is  her  greatest  sorrow.  But  do  not  ask  me  to  advise 
you  what  to  do  ;  a  man's  own  heart  must  decide  for  him, 
not  another's.  See  her  first ;  I  shall  learn  to-morrow 
where  she  is.  I  will  go  to  her,  and  prepare  her  to  meet 
you,  if  you  are  willing,  —  then  act  as  God  shall  put  it  in 
your  mind  to  do.  Now,  I  must  go,  — good-night,  you  good 
old  Trojan  ! " 

I  gave  him  a  slap  over  the  broad  shoulders,  and,  before 
I  knew  it,  I  was  drawn  up  and  held  in  iron  muscles,  until  I 
felt  a  man's  heart  hammering  like  a  closed  fist  against  my 
breast.  Then  he  released  me,  and  I  went  down-stairs  to 
find  the  journeyman's  wife  sitting  on  the  lowest  step,  fast 
asleep,  with  her  head  against  the  railing,  and  a  tallow  dip, 
sputtering  in  its  socket,  at  her  side. 

The  next  day  was  only  less  eventful  in  my  history  than 
its  predecessor.  I  saw  Isabel,  and  adhered  to  my  self- 
imposed  duty.  What  passed  between  us  belongs  to  those 
sanctities  of  the  heart  which  each  man  and  woman  holds 
as  his  or  her  exclusive  possession.  She  knew  my  life  at 
last,  —  nothing  weak,  or  dark,  or  disgraceful  in  its  past 
was  withheld.  I  felt  that  I  dared  not  accept  the  bounty  of 
her  love,  if  it  rested  on  a  single  misconception  of  my 
nature.  Had  I  known  her  then  as  I  now  know  her,  I 
should  have  understood  that  nothing  was  risked  by  the 
confession,  —  that  her  pardon  already  existed  in  her  love. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  481 

But  alas !  I  had  looked  on  married  life,  and  seen  —  as  I 
still  see  —  concealment  and  cowardice  —  honest  affection 
striving  to  accommodate  itself  to  imperfect  confidence! 
Women  are  stronger  than  you  think  them  to  be,  my  broth 
er-men  !  and  by  so  much  as  you  trust  them  with  the  full 
knowledge  of  yourselves,  by  so  much  more  will  they  be 
qualified,  not  only  to  comfort,  but  to  guard  you ! 

During  that  interview  I  learned,  also,  the  wonderful 
chance  —  the  Providence  I  prefer  to  call  it  —  which  brought 
Isabel  and  myself  together  again.  Some  particulars,  lack 
ing  in 'her  narrative,  were  supplied  afterwards  by  Jane 
Berry,  but  I  give  them  now  complete  as  they  exist  in  my 
mind.  In  fact,  so  vivid  and  distinct  is  the  story  that  it 
almost  seems  to  be  a  part  of  my  own  experience. 

Jane  Berry's  first  determination,  after  my  last  interview 
with  her,  was  to  find  other  quarters,  commensurate  with 
her  slender  means,  and  as  far  as  possible  from  Gooseberry 
Alley.  One  of  the  needle-women  employed  by  the  Bowery 
establishment  had  found  better  work  and  wages  at  a  fash 
ionable  dress-maker's  in  Twenty-ninth  Street,  and,  with  her 
help,  Jane  succeeded,  the  next  morning,  in  engaging  a 
humble  room  in  Tenth  Avenue,  with  the  prospect  of  occa 
sional  jobs  from  the  same  mistress.  She  was  impelled  to 
this  step  by  her  desire  to  save  Mary  Maloney  from  the 
trouble  of  malicious  tongues,  and  by  a  vague  instinct  which 
counselled  her  to  avoid  me.  Thus  it  was  that  she  only 
remained  long  enough  to  finish  the  Christmas-gift,  which 
she  would  leave  for  me  as  a  token  of  her  gratitude. 

The  evening  after  my  visit,  however,  she  made  a  discov 
ery.  In  repairing  the  buttons  of  the  waistcoat  which  Mary 
Maloney  had  retained  as  a  pattern  for  the  new  one,  she 
found  a  crumpled  paper  in  one  of  the  pockets.  It  seemed 
to  be  a  stray  fragment  of  no  consequence,  and  she  was 
about  to  throw  it  away,  when  her  eye  caught  sight  of  my 
name  in  one  of  the  two  written  lines.  She  read  them,  and 
her  mind,  simple  as  it  was,  detected  a  partial  connection 
31 


482  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

between  them  and  the  reckless  words  I  had  addressed  to 
her.  I  had  said  —  she  well  remembered  it  —  that  I  loved 
one  who  was  lost  to  me  through  no  fault  of  mine  ;  that  one 
was  probably  this  Miss  Haworth.  It  was  natural  that  her 
fancy,  brooding  always  over  her  own  shame,  should  suggest 
that  she  might  be  the  innocent  cause  of  my  disappointment ; 
my  name  was  disgracefully  coupled  with  hers  by  the  ten 
ants  of  Gooseberry  Alley,  and  judging  New  York  by  Hack- 
ettstown,  it  seemed  probable  to  her  that  all  my  acquaint 
ances  might  be  familiar  with  the  report.  It  was  a  suspicion 
which  occasioned  her  bitter  grief,  and  she  resolved  to  clear 
my  reputation  at  the  expense  of  her  own. 

Thus,  her  very  ignorance  of  the  world  helped  her  to  the 
true  explanation  of  Miss  Haworth's  repulse,  while  the  cir 
cumstance  which  actually  led  to  it  was  so  accidental  as  to 
be  beyond  my  own  guessing.  To  discover  and  undeceive 
Miss  Haworth  was  the  determination  which  at  once  took 
possession  of  her  mind.  She  said  to  herself,  —  "  What  a 
lucky  name !  I  never  heard  it  before.  If  she  were  Miss 
Smith,  or  Miss  Brown,  I  might  as  well  give  up  ;  but,  big  as 
New  York  is,  I  am  sure  I  can  find  Miss  Haworth ! " 

Poor  girl,  I  fancy  her  search  was  sufficiently  long  and 
discouraging.  She  may  possibly  have  tried  the  "  Directory," 
but  it  could  give  her  no  help.  Installed  in  the  working- 
room  of  the  dress-maker,  she  kept  her  ears  open  to  the 
talk  of  the  fashionable  visitors,  in  the  hope  of  hearing  the 
name  mentioned.  Once  it  came,  as  she  thought,  and  with 
much  trouble,  much  anxiety  of  heart,  and  many  cunning 
little  expedients,  she  discovered  the  residence  of  the  lady 
who  bore  it,  only  to  find  "  Hayward  "  on  the  door-plate  !  It 
was  wonderful  that,  with  her  poor,  simple,  insufficient  plan 
of  search,  she  ever  accomplished  anything,  and  this  is  my 
reason  for  accepting  her  success  as  due  to  the  guidance  of 
Providence.  One  species  of  help,  at  least,  she  was  shrewd 
enough  to  perceive  and  take  hold  of;  she  learned  the  names 
and  addresses  of  other  conspicuous  modistes  in  the  upper 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  483 

part  of  the  city,  and  visited  them,  one  by  one,  to  ascertain 
whether  they  numbered  a  Miss  Haworth  among  their  pa 
tronesses.  It  was  truly  a  woman's  device,  and  being  pa 
tiently  followed,  brought  at  last  its  reward. 

The  manner  of  the  discovery  was  curious,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  but  that  I  understand  how  it  came  about  better  than 
Jane  herself.  Her  unsophisticated  air  very  probably  cre 
ated  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  some  of  the  sharp  women 
of  business  upon  whom  she  called ;  she  may  have  been 
suspected  of  being  the  crafty  agent,  or  drummer,  of  a  rival 
establishment,  for  her  question  was  ungraciously  received, 
and  she  was  often  keenly  questioned  in  turn.  Her  pa.- 
tience  had  been  severely  tried,  and  the  possibility  of  failure 
was  beginning  to  present  itself  to  her  mind,  when  one  day, 
at  the  close  of  March,  she  was  attracted  by  the  sign  of 
"  Madame  Boise,  from  Paris,"  and  timidly  entered,  to  re 
peat  her  inquiry.  Madame  Boise,  who  spoke  English  with 
a  New-England  accent,  listened  with  an  air  of  suspicion, 
asked  a  question  or  two,  and  finally  said,  — 

" I  don't  know  any  Miss  flat/worth" 

While  saying  this,  she  turned  a  large,  light  parcel  up 
side  down,  so  that  the  address  would  be  concealed.  The 
movement  did  not  escape  Jane  Berry's  eye ;  the  idea  came 
into  her  head,  and  would  not  be  banished,  that  Madame  did 
know  Miss  Haworth,  and  that  the  parcel  in  question  was 
meant  for  her.  She  left  the  house  and  waited  patiently  at 
the  corner  of  the  block  until  she  saw  a  messenger-girl  issue 
from  the  door.  Noting  the  direction  the  latter  took,  she 
slipped  rapidly  around  the  block  and  met  her.  It  was  easy 
enough  to  ascertain  from  the  girl  whither  her  errand  led, 
and  Jane's  suspicion  was  right.  She  not  only  learned  Miss 
Haworth's  address,  but,  for  greater  certainty,  accompanied 
the  girl  to  the  house. 

The  next  morning  she  stole  away  from  her  work,  filled 
with  the  sense  of  the  responsibility  hanging  over  her,  and 
went  to  seek  an  interview  with  Isabel.  If  she  had  stopped 


484  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

to  reflect  upon  what  she  was  about  to  do,  she  might  have 
hesitated  and  drawn  back  from  the  difficult  task ;  but  the 
singleness  and  unthinking  earnestness  of  her  purpose  drove 
her  straightforward  to  its  accomplishment. 

The  servant  who  answered  the  door  endeavored  to  learn 
her  business,  and  seemed  disinclined  to  carry  her  message, 
but  finally  left  her  standing  in  the  hall  and  summoned  Miss 
Haworth.  ^VYhen  Jane  saw  the  latter  descending  the  stairs, 
she  felt  sure  she  had  found  the  right  lady,  from  the  color 
of  her  eyes  ;  this  was  the  naive  reason  she  gave. 

Isabel  said,  "  You  wished  to  see  me  ?  " 
.  "  Yes,  Miss  Haworth,  nobody  but  you.     Must  I  tell  you, 
here,  what  I  've  got  to  say  ?    Are  you  sure  I  won't  be  over 
heard?" 

"  Come  in  here,  then,"  Isabel  answered,  opening  the  door 
of  the  drawing-room,  "  if  your  message  is  so  important. 
But  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  have  ever  seen  you  before." 

"  No,  miss,  you  never  saw  me,  and  I  don't  come  on  my 
own  account,  but  on  his.  You  '11  pardon  me  for  speaking 
of  him  to  you,  but  I  must  try  to  set  you  right  about  him. 
Oh,  miss,  he  's  good  and  true,  —  he  saved  me  from  ruin, 
and  it 's  the  least  I  can  do  to  clear  up  his  character !  " 

"  Him  ?  Who  ?  "  Isabel  exclaimed,  in  great  astonish 
ment. 

«  Mr.  Godfrey." 

Isabel  turned  pale  with  the  shock  of  the  unexpected 
name  ;  but  the  next  instant  a  resentful,,  suspicious  feeling 
shot  through  her  heart,  and  she  asked,  with  a  cold,  stern 
face,  — 

"  Did  he  send  you  to  me  ?  " 

"  Oh.  no,  miss  !  "  Jane  cried,  in  distress,  the  tears  coming 
into  her  eyes ;  "  he  don't  know  where  I  am.  I  went  away 
because  the  people  talked,  and  the  more  he  helped  me  the 
more  his  name  was  disgraced  on  account  of  it.  Please 
don't  look  so  angry,  miss ;  don't  go  away,  until  you  've 
heard  all !  I  '11  tell  you  everything.  Perhaps  you  've 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  485 

heard  it  already,  and  know  what  I  've  been ;  I  '11  bear  your 
blame,  —  I  '11  bear  anything,  if  you  '11  only  wait  and  hear 
the  truth ! " 

She  dropped  on  her  knees,  and  clasped  her  hands  im 
ploringly.  Her  passionate  earnestness  bound  Isabel  to  lis 
ten,  but  the  latter's  suspicion  was  not  yet  allayed. 

"  Who  told  you  to  come  to  me  ?  "  she  asked.  "  How  did 
you  learn  that  I  once  knew  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  " 

"  Not  him,  miss,  oh,  not  him  !  I  found  it  out  without  his 
knowledge.  When  I  saw  that  he  was  n't  his  right  self,  — 
he  was  desperate,  and  'said  that  he  was  parted  from  one  he 
loved,  and  through  no  fault  of  his,  and  he  did  n't  care  what 
would  become  of  him,  —  and  then  when  I  found  this,"  — 
here  she  produced  the  note,  —  "and  saw  your  name,  I 
guessed  you  were  the  one.  And  then  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  come  to  you  and  clear  him  from  the  wicked  reports,  — 
for  indeed,  miss,  they  're  not  true  ! " 

Jane's  imperfect,  broken  revelations,  —  the  sight  of  the 
note,  —  the  evident  truth  of  the  girl's  manner,  —  strangely 
agitated  Isabel's  heart.  She  lifted  her  from  the  floor,  led 
her  to  a  seat,  seated  herself  near  her  and  said,  — 

"  I  will  hear  all  you  have  to  say.  Try  and  compose 
yourself  to  speak  plainly,  for  you  must  bear  in  mind  that  I 
know  nothing.  Tell  me  first  who  you  are." 

"  I  am  Jane  Berry,  the  girl  he  saved  the  night  of  the 
fire." 

"  Were  you  with  him  one  evening  in  Washington 
Square?" 

"  Yes !  "  Jane  eagerly  exclaimed.  "  That  was  the  time 
I  told  him  all  about  myself,  and  how  I  came  to  be  where  I 
was.  And  now  I  must  tell  you  the  same,  miss.  If  it  does 
n't  seem  becoming  for  you  to  hear,  you  '11  forgive  me  when 
you  think  what  it  is  to  me  to  say  it." 

"Tell  me." 

Whereupon  Jane,  with  many  breaks  and  outbursts  of 
shame  and  self-accusation,  repeated  her  sad  story.  Of 


486  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

course  she  withheld  so  much  of  my  last  interview  with  her 
as  might  reflect  an  unfavorable  light  upon  myself.  Isabel 
saw  in  me  only  the  virtuous  protector  whom  she  had  so 
cruelly  misjudged.  Jane's  narrative  was  so  straightforward 
and  circumstantial  that  it  was  impossible  to  doubt  its  truth. 
Pity  for  the  unfortunate  girl,  and  condemnation  of  her  own 
rash  judgment  were  mingled  in  her  heart  with  the  dawning 
of  a  sweet,  maidenly  hope. 

"  Jane  Berry,"  she  said,  when  at  last  all  the  circumstances 
were  clearly  explained,  "  you  have  done  both  a  good  and  a 
heroic  thing  in  coming  to  me.  I  promise  you  that  I  will 
make  atonement  to  Mr.  Godfrey  for  my  injustice.  You 
must  let  me  be  your  friend ;  you  must  allow  me  to  assist 
and  protect  you,  in  your  struggles  to  redeem  yourself.  I 
will  take  Mr.  Godfrey's  place  :  it  belongs  to  a  woman." 

Jane  melted  into  grateful  tears.  Isabel,  feeling  that  she 
deserved  the  joy  of  being  the  messenger  of  justice  to  me, 
wrote  a  note  similar  to  that  which  called  me  back  to  her, 
and  intrusted  Jane  with  its  delivery.  The  message  failed, 
because  I  was  at  that  time  dishonorably  banished  from 
Mrs.  De  Peyster's  boarding-house,  and  my  den  in  Crosby 
Street  was  known  to  no  one. 

The  fateful  interview  was  over,  and  Jane,  with  the 
precious  note  in  her  hands,  was  leaving  the  drawing-room, 
when  the  street-door  opened,  and  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd  entered 
the  hall.  Isabel,  following  Jane,  heard  the  latter  utter  a 
wild,  startled  scream,  and  saw  her  turn,  with  a  pale,  fright 
ened  face  and  trembling  limbs,  and  fall  upon  the  floor, 
almost  swooning. 

"  Damnation  !  here 's  a  devil  of  a  muss  ! "  exclaimed  Mr. 
Floyd,  with  a  petrified  look  on  his  vapid  face.  Perceiving 
Isabel,  he  ran  up-stairs,  muttering  curses  as  he  went. 

"  Oh,  miss  ! "  Jane  breathlessly  cried,  clutching  a  chair 
and  dragging  herself  to  her  feet,  —  "  dear,  good  Miss 
Haworth,  don't  let  that  man  come  into  your  house  !  Tell 
me  that  you  're  not  thinking  of  marrying  him  !  He  's  the 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  487 

one  I  was  talking  of !  I  've  never  mentioned  his  name  yet 
to  a  living  soul,  but  you  must  kno*v,  for  your  own  sake. 
Perhaps  he'  11  deny  it,  —  for  he  lied  to  me  and  he  'd  lie  to 
you,  —  but  see  here !  I  call  on  God  to  strike  me  dead  this 
minute,  if  I  've  told  you  a  false  word  about  him  ! " 

She  held  up  her  right  hand  as  she  pronounced  the  awful 
words,  but  Isabel  did  not  need  this  solemn  invocation.  Her 
pure,  proud  nature  shrank  from  the  ignominy  of  her  rela 
tion  to  that  man,  and  a  keener  pang  of  reproach  entered 
her  heart  as  she  remembered  that  his  insinuations  in  regard 
to  myself —  doubly  infamous  now  —  had  made  her  mind  so 
rapid  to  condemn  me.  It  was  impossible  for  her,  thence 
forth,  to  meet  her  step-brother,  —  impossible  to  dwell  in 
the  same  house  with  him. 

I  have  reason  to  believe,  now,  that  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd  was 
one  of  the  band  of  genteel  rowdies  whom  I  encountered  in 
Houston  Street  on  the  evening  of  the  fire,  —  that  he  recog 
nized  me  and  watched  me  conducting  Jane  Berry  to  Goose 
berry  Alley.  Perhaps  he  may  have  lain  in  wait  for  my  visits 
afterwards.  Whether  he  also  recognized  Jane  Berry,  it  is 
impossible  to  say.  Let  us  seek  to  diminish  rather  than  in 
crease  the  infamy  of  his  class,  and  give  him  the  benefit  of 
the  uncertainty. 

Isabel  only  remained  long  enough  to  find  a  safe  place  of 
refuge  for  Jane  Berry.  The  fears  of  the  latter  were  so 
excited  by  her  encounter  with  her  betrayer  that  she  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  go  as  far  as  possible  from  the  crowded 
heart  of  the  city,  and  gladly  embraced  the  proposition  of 
boarding  with  a  humble,  honest  family  in  Harlem.  When 
this  duty  was  performed,  Isabel,  impulsive  in  all  things 
which  concerned  her  feelings,  left  immediately  for  Boston, 
resolved  never  to  return  to  her  step-father's  house  while 
his  son  remained  one  of  its  inmates. 

I  lost  no  time  in  visiting  Jane  Berry.  She,  of  course, 
had  learned  nothing,  as  yet,  of  what  had  taken  place,  and 
her  surprise  at  my  sudden  appearance  was  extreme.  I 


488  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

knew,  from  the  eager,  delighted  expression  of  her  face, 
what  thoughts  were  in  her  mind,  what  words  would  soon 
find  their  way  to  her  lips,  and  could  not  resist  the  tempta 
tion  to  forestall  her  by  a  still  happier  message. 

"  Jane,"  I  cried,  taking  her  hands,  "  it  is  you  who  have 
saved  me!  I  have  seen  Isabel  Haworth,  and  she  has 
burned  the  note  you  took  out  of  my  waistcoat-pocket !  — 
burned  it  before  my  eyes,  Jane,  and  she  has  promised  to 
write  another,  some  day,  and  sign  it  '  Isabel  Godfrey  ! ' " 

"  Oh,  is  it  so,  Mr.  Godfrey  ?  Then  I  can  be  happy  again, 
- —  I  have  done  some  good  at  last !  " 

"  You  are  good,  Jane.  We  shall  be  your  friends,  always. 
Show  the  same  patience  in  leading  an  honest  life  that  you 
have  shown  in  helping  me,  and  you  may  not  only  redeem 
your  fault  but  outlive  its  pain." 

"  No  —  no  !  "  she  said,  sighing.  "  I  've  heard  it  said  that 
a  moment's  folly  may  spoil  a  lifetime,  and  it 's  true.  I  Ve 
been  trying  to  think  for  myself,  —  I  never  did  it  before,  — 
and  though  I  may  n't  be  able  to  put  everything  into  words 
as  you  do,  it 's  here,"  (touching  her  heart,)  "  and  I  under 
stand  it." 

I  thought  of  Bob,  and  felt  that  I  was  forced  to  probe  her 
sorest  wound,  with  no  certainty  of  healing  it.  But  for 
Bob's  sake  it  must  be  done. 

"  Jane,"  I  said,  gravely,  "  I  have  found  some  one  whom 
you  know,  —  who  loved,  and  still  loves  you.  Jane,  he  is 
my  dearest  friend,  my  old  schoolmate  and  playfellow,  who 
picked  me  up  the  other  day,  when  I  was  a  miserable  vaga 
bond,  and  set  me  on  my  feet.  He  followed  you  when  you 
left  Hackettstown,  and  has  been  trying  to  find  you  ever 
since.  Will  you  see  him  ? " 

I  saw,  by  her  changing  color,  and  the  unconscious,  con 
vulsive  movement  of  her  hands,  that  the  first  surprise  of 
my  news  was  succeeded  by  a  painful  conflict  of  feeling. 

"  Does  he  know  ?  "  —  she  whispered. 

"  He  knows  all,  and  it  is  the  sorrow  of  his  life,  as  of 


JOHN"   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  489 

yours.  But  I  am  to  tell  you,  from  him,  that  he  will  not 
force  himself  upon  you.  You  must  decide,  for  yourself, 
whether  or  not  he  shall  come." 

"  Not  now  —  not  now  !  "  she  cried.  "  If  I  could  look 
through  the  blinds  of  a  window  and  see  him  passing  by,  I 
think  it  would  be  a  comfort,  —  but  I  ought  n't  to  wish  even 
for  that.  Don't  think  me  hard,  Mr.  Godfrey,  or  ungrateful 
for  his  remembrance  of  me  when  I  've  no  right  to  it ;  but, 
indeed,  I  dare  n't  meet  him  now.  Perhaps  a  time  may 
come,  —  I  don't  know,  —  it 's  better  not  to  promise  any 
thing.  I  may  work  and  get  myself  a  good  name  :  people 
may  forget,  if  they  Ve  heard  evil  reports  of  me ;  but  he 
can't  forget.  Tell  him  I  thank  him  from  my  heart,  and 
will  pray  for  him  on  my  knees  every  night.  Tell  him  I 
know  now,  when  it 's  too  late,  how  good  and  true  he  is,  and 
I  '11  give  back  his  love  for  me  in  the  only  way  I  dare,  —  by 
saving  him  from  his  own  generous  heart !  " 

I  sighed  when  I  saw  how  the  better  nature  of  the  woman 
had  been  .developed  out  of  the  ruins  of  her  life,  and  that 
she  was  really  worthy  of  an  honest  man's  love  through  the 
struggle  which  bade  her  relinquish  the  hope  of  ever  attain 
ing  it.  But  I  could  not  attempt  to  combat  her  feelings 
without  weakening  that  sense  of  guilt  which  was  the  basis 
of  her  awakened  conscience,  the  vital  principle  of  her  re 
turning  virtue.  It  was  best,  for  the  present,  at  least,  to 
leave  her  to  herself. 

To  my  surprise  —  and  also  to  my  relief —  Bob  acqui 
esced  very  quietly  in  her  decision. 

"  It 's  about  what  I  expected,"  he  said,  "  and  I  can't  help 
thinkin'  better  of  her  for  it.  Between  you  and  me,  John, 
if  she  'd  ha'  been  over-anxious  to  see  me,  't  would  n't  ha' 
been  a  good  sign,  and  I  might  ha'  drawed  back.  You  know 
what  I  asked  you  about,  —  I  've  turned  it  over  ag'in,  and 
this  time  it  comes  out  clearer.  I  've  got  to  wait  and  be 
patient,  the  Lord  knows  how  long,  but  His  ways  won't  be 
hurried.  I  must  be  satisfied  with  knowin'  she  's  in  good 


490  JOHN    GODFREY'S     FORTUNES. 

hands,  where  I  can  always  hear  of  her  ;  and  maybe  a  day  '11 
come  when  the  sight  o'  me  will  give  her  less  trouble  than 
't  would  now,  and  when  it  '11  be  easier  for  me  to  forgit 
what 's  past." 

Bob  bent  his  neck  to  his  fate  like  a  strong  ox  to  the 
yoke.  Nothing  in  his  life  was  changed :  he  was  still  the 
steady,  sober,  industrious  foreman,  with  a  chance  of  becom 
ing  "  boss "  in  a  year  or  two,  respected  by  his  workmen, 
trusted  by  his  employer,  and  loved  with  a  brotherly  affec 
tion  by  at  least  one  fellow-man.  His  hands  might  hew  out 
for  him  a  more  insignificant  path  in  the  world  than  my  head 
achieved  for  me,  but  they  beat  down  snares  and  bridged 
pitfalls  which  my  head  could  only  escape  by  long  and  weary 
moral  circuits.  Our  lives  were  not  so  disproportionately 
endowed  as  they  seemed  to  my  boyish  eyes. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  491 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

IN  WHICH    I    RECEIVE   AN    UNEXPECTED    LETTER    FROM 
UNCLE    WOOLLEY. 

DID  ever  such  a  summer  shine  upon  the  earth  ?  Did 
the  shadow-broidery  of  trees  ever  deepen  into  the  perfect 
canopy  of  shade,  the  bud  open  into  the  blossom,  May  ripen 
to  June,  with  such  a  sweet,  glowing,  unbroken  transition  ? 
Never,  at  least,  had  I  seen  the  same  diamond  sparkle  on 
the  waves  of  the  harbor,  in  my  morning  walks  on  the  Bat 
tery,  or  the  same  mellow  glory  of  sunset  over  Union  Square, 
in  returning  from  interviews  which  grew  dearer  and  hap 
pier  with  every  repetition.  Even  the  coining  separation 
could  not  rob  the  season  of  its  splendor :  day  after  day  the 
sun  shone,  and  the  breezes  blew,  and  the  fresh  leaves  •whis 
pered  to  one  burden,  — joy,  joy,  joy  ! 

And  day  by  day  there  came  to  me  a  truer  and  holier 
knowledge  of  Isabel's  nature.  It  seemed,  indeed,  that  I 
had  never  known  a  woman  before,  in  the  beautiful  harmony 
which  binds  and  reconciles  her  apparent  inconsistencies,  so 
that  courage  may  dwell  side  by  side  with  timidity,  exaction 
with  bounty,  purity  with  knowledge.  The  moral  enigmas 
which  had  perplexed  me  found  in  her  their  natural  solution, 
and  she  became  at  once  my  protecting  and  forgiving  con 
science.  I  thought,  then,  that  she  surpassed  me  in  every 
thing,  but  her  truer  instinct  prefigured  my  own  maturer 
development.  Love  can  seldom  exist  without  a  balance  of 
compensations,  and  I  have  lived  to  know  —  and  to  be 
grateful  for  the  knowledge  —  that  I  am  her  help  and  stay, 
as  she  is  mine. 


492  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

Fortunately  for  myself,  she  was  not  a  woman  of  genius, 
to  overpower  my  proper  ambition,  or  bend  it  to  her  will. 
Such  may  consort  with  the  gentle,  yielding,  contented  per 
sons  of  our  sex  who  supply  that  repose  which  is  the  coveted 
complement  of  the  restless  quality.  Genius  is  always  her 
maphroditic,  adding  a  male  element  to  the  woman  and  a 
female  to  the  man.  In  Isabel,  the  strong  sentiment  of  jus 
tice  and  the  noble  fearlessness  with  which  she  obeyed  its 
promptings,  were  also  the  sterling  attributes  of  her  own 
sex,  and  they  but  made  her  womanly  softness  rarer  and 
lovelier.  Her  admirable  cultivation  gave  her  an  apparent 
poise  of  character  and  ripeness  of  judgment,  which  pro 
tected,  not  obscured,  the  fresh,  virgin  purity  of  her  feelings. 
My  sentimental  phantom  of  inconstancy  vanished  when  I 
compared  my  shallow  emotion  for  Amanda  with  this  perfect 
passion  in  which  I  lived  and  moved  and  had  my  being. 
Now,  for  the  first  time,  I  knew  what  it  was  to  love. 

I  have  said  that  a  separation  was  approaching.  Her 
summer  was  to  be  spent,  as  usual,  in  the  country,  —  the 
greater  part  of  it  with  Mrs.  Deering,  at  Sachem's  Head,  — 
which  gave  me  the  promise  of  an  occasional  brief  visit. 
Isabel's  mother,  in  her  will,  had  expressed  the  desire  —  it 
was  not  worded  as  a  command  —  that  she  would  not  marry 
before  her  twenty-first  birthday.  Her  fortune,  until  then, 
was  in  the  hands  of  trustees,  of  whom  Mr.  Floyd  was  one, 
and  from  her  eighteenth  year  she  was  allowed  the  use  of 
the  annual  income.  Until  now,  her  step-father  had  drawn 
it  in  her  name,  and  she  had  allowed  him  to  use  the  greater 
portion  of  it  in  his  private  speculations.  Of  course  his  con 
sent  to  her  marriage  was  not  to  be  expected,  and  she  de 
cided  not  to  mention  her  betrothal  until  she  should  come 
into  the  possession  of  her  property,  in  the  following  October. 

We  were  discussing  these  prosaic  matters,  —  not  during 
the  second  interview,  be  it  understood,  nor  even  the  tenth, 
—  and  I  had  confessed  the  trouble  of  mind  which  her  for 
tune  had  caused  me,  when  she  playfully  asked,  — 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  493 

"  What  were  the  dimensions  of  this  terrible  bugbear  ? 
Taking  your  misgivings,  John,  and  the  eagerness  of  certain 
others,  one  would  suppose  it  to  be  a  question  of  millions. 
Tell  me,  candidly,  what  is  presumed  to  be  my  market 
value  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  precisely,"  I  answered ;  "  Penrose  said  — 
some  hundreds  of  thousands  !  " 

"  Penrose  !  "  She  paused,  and  an  expression  of  disap 
pointment  passed  over  her  face.  "  I  would  rather  he  had 
not  said  it.  I  did  not  think  him  selfish,  —  in  that  way. 
There  is  a  mocking  spirit  in  him  which  repels  me,  but  I  de 
tected  noble  qualities  under  it,  at  the  last.  I  could  have 
accepted  and  honored  him  as  a  friend,  if  he  had  permitted 
me.  But  to  come  back  to  the  important  subject,  —  he  was 
wrong,  and  your  trouble  might  have  been  diminished  by 
two  thirds,  or  three  fourths,  if  you  had  known  it.  I  am  not 
the  heiress  of  romance." 

"  So  much  the  better  !  "  I  cried.  "  Neither  are  you  the 
lady  of  romance,  '  in  gloss  of  satin  and  glimmer  of  pearls.' " 

"  You  must  hear  the  fact,  John.  My  whole  fortune  is  but 
eighty  thousand  dollars,  which,  in  New  York,  I  believe,  is 
only  considered  to  be  a  decent  escape  from  poverty. 
Having  never  enjoyed  the  possession  of  it,  I  feel  that  it 
scarcely  yet  exists  for  me.  I  should  value  a  tithe  of  it  far 
more,  if  it  were  earned  by  my  own  exertions,  and  this  is 
one  reason  why  I  yield  so  readily  to  your  scornful  inde 
pendence  of  me.  I  can  enter  into  your  feeling,  for  it  is 
also  mine." 

I  was  really  relieved  that  the  disproportion  between  our 
fortunes  was  reduced  by  so  much,  —  though,  for  that  mat 
ter,  eighty  thousand  seemed  as  unattainable  as  eight  hun 
dred  thousand.  All  I  could  aim  at  was  the  system  of  steady, 
moderately  remunerative  labor  upon  which  I  had  entered, 
and  the  prospect  of  gradual  improvement  which  it  held 
forth.  I  would,  at  least,  not  be  an  idle  pensioner  upon  Isa 
bel's  means.  This  resolution  gave  me  new  vigor,  infused 


494  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

life  into  my  performance  of  mechanical  duties,  and  made 
my. services,  as  I  soon  discovered,  of  increased  value, — for 
the  increased  reward  followed. 

Our  parting  was  the  beginning  of  a  correspondence  in 
which  we  still  drew  closer  to  each  other,  in  the  knowledge 
of  reciprocal  want,  and  the  expression  of  the  deeper  sym 
pathies  born  of  absence.  Our  letters  were  long  and  fre 
quent,  and  then  came,  to  interrupt  them,  the  brief,  delicious 
visits,  when  I  stole  away  for  a  Sabbath  beside  the  blue  wa 
ter,  and  Mrs.  Deering  managed  that  wre  should  be  left  alone 
to  the  extreme  limit  which  Conventionality  permitted. 
Thus  the  bright  summer  wore  away,  nor  once  betrayed  the 
promise  of  its  joyous  opening. 

It  was  the  9th  of  September,  I  recollect,  —  for  in  one 
month,  to  a  day,  Isabel  would  become  sole  mistress  of  her 
fortune,  —  that,  on  going  down  to  the  Wonder  office  at  the 
usual  hour,  I  found  a  large,  awkward-looking  letter  upon 
my  desk.  The  postmark  was  Reading,  and  I  thought  I 
recognized  my  uncle's  cramped,  heavy  hand  in  the  configu 
ration  of  the  words,  —  "  Mr.  John  Godfrey."  I  opened  it 
with  some  curiosity  to  know  the  occasion  of  this  unexpected 
missive,  and  read  as  follows :  — 

"  READING,  Berks  Co.  Penn'a. 
September  the  7th,  185—. 

"RESPD.  NEPHEW,  —  I  take  my  Pen  in  hand  to  inform 
you  that  Me  and  your  aunt  Peggy  are  injoying  good  Health 
and  Those  Blessings  which  the  Lord  Vouchsafes  to  us.  It 
is  a  long  Time  since  we  have  heard  anything  of  you,  but 
suppose  you  are  still  ingaged  in  the  same  Occupation  as  at 
first,  and  hence  direct  accordingly,  hoping  these  few  Lines 
may  come  Safely  to  hand. 

"  It  has  been  a  fine  Summer,  for  the  crops.  The  grass 
has  grown  for  the  Cattle  and  the  herb  for  the  Service  of 
man  (Psalms  104,  14,)  and  the  Butter  market  is  well  sup 
plied.  Prices  will  be  coming  down,  but  I  trust  you  have 
Found  that  wealth  is  not  increased  by  price  (Ditto  44, 12,) 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  495 

and  that  Riches  profit  not  in  the  day  of  wrath  (Proverbs 
11,  4).  My  business  has  Expanded,  and  I  have  reason  to 
be  Thankful  that  I  have  so  far  escaped  the  Snares  which 
were  laid  for  me  as  in  a  Trap  (Job  18).  Although  I  was 
Compassed  about,  Praise  be  to  the  Lord,  I  have  escaped. 

"  And  this  is  the  Reason  why  I  write  to  you  these  few 
lines.  I  might  say  to  you  Judge  not  that  ye  be  not  Judged 
(Matthew  7, 1)  if  I  was  sure  that  your  ears  are  not  closed 
in  Stubbornness.  I  might  Charge  you  as  being  one  that 
looketh  on  outward  Appearance  (Samuel  16,  7)  but  I  will 
not  imitate  your  Behaviour  to  a  man  of  your  own  Kin. 
Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the  Evil  thereof,  and  as  there  is 
a  time  for  all  things,  (Eccl.  3)  I  hope  your  time  for  Ac 
knowledgement  has  come.  I  have  waited  for  my  Justifica 
tion.  A  long  Time,  it  may  seem  to  you,  because  you  were 
rash  to  suspect  evil,  but  it  has  Been  longer  to  me,  because 
I  had  to  Bear  your  suspicion.  With  great  wrestlings  have 
I  wrestled,  and  I  have  Prevailed  (Genesis  30,  8).  It  is 
not  good  to  be  Rash,  or  to  speak  out  of  the  Stirrings  up  of 
the  sinful  Heart.  It  has  been  a  sore  Tribulation  to  your 
aunt  Peggy,  though  not  rightfully  to  be  laid  at  My  door. 

"  Their  Snares  have  failed  and  I  am  at  last  Able  to  re 
alize  —  which,  since  the  Road  has  changed,  as  I  suppose 
you  have  seen  by  the  Newspapers,  is  a  proper  punishment, 
showing  that  the  Counsels  of  the  wicked  is  Deceit  (Prov 
erbs  12,  5).  And  you  will  See,  much  as  you  would  not 
Believe  it  at  the  time,  that  Sixhundredfold  was  below  the 
Mark,  which  was  all  I  Promised,  but  will  Act  upright,  and 
it  shall  be  even  Shares  to  the  Uttermost  farthing.  I  prayed 
to  the  Lord  on  my  Bended  knees  that  night,  that  He  would 
make  my  word  Good,  and  let  me  not  be  Humbled,  but  it 
is  more  than  2  years  before  He  would  allow  it  to  come  to 
Pass,  which  I  did  not  Count  upon,  and  it  is  all  the  Better 
for  waiting.  The  new  Survey  was  Made  more  than  a  year 
ago,  but  Purchasers  did  not  depend  on  the  second  change 
until  there  was  some  Cuttings  and  Bridges.  Besides,  the 


496  JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

others  went  about  Crying  it  down,  for  Disappointment  and 
Spite,  which  had  an  effect  on  the  Market,  and  so  I  would 
not  Realize  until  the  thing  was  sure.  You  see  now  that  it 
was  not  Necessary  to  suspicion  me  of  acting  dishonest,  and 
to  Breed  up  strife  in  the  household.  Where  Strife  is, 
there  is  confusion  (James  3,  16),  and  you  Magnified  your 
own  opinions  at  the  time,  but  Blessed  is  the  man  that  mak- 
eth  the  Lord  his  trust  and  respecteth  not  the  Proud  (Prov 
erbs  40,  4). 

"  I  write  these  few  Lines  to  inform  you  that  Things  are 
now  fixed,  as  I  said  before,  and  may  be  Put  into  your  own 
hands  whenever  you  like.  I  Remind  you  that  a  Recpt.  in 
full  is  necessary  for  the  Justification  of  my  name,  though 
not  aware  of  Evil  reports,  which  might  have  been  Expected 
after  the  manner  in  which  you  Went  away  from  my  doors. 
Your  aunt  bids  me  say  that  things  may  be  Taken  back  be 
tween  Relations,  and  This  should  not  be  a  matter  too  hard 
for  judgement,  between  blood  and  blood  (Deuteronomy 
17,  8).  Therefore  it  Rests  with  yourself  on  what  footing  we 
should  stand.  I  will  not  bear  Malice  for  past  injustice,  but 
hope  that  you  will  acknowledge  the  lesser  Truth,  and  yet 
be  Led  to  accept  the  Greater. 

"  If  you  come  soon,  Let  me  know  the  day  beforehand 
that  all  things  may  be  Prepared.  Your  aunt  says  the  spare 
bedroom  on  the  second  story,  if  he  will  Take  it,  which  I 
repeat  also  for  my  own  part  —  though  the  House  is  sold, 
by  reason  of  Retiring  from  business,  we  have  not  Moved 
away.  Our  Congregation  has  been  blessed  with  a  great 
Awakening  and  increase  of  members,  and  we  expect  to 
build  a  Large  Church  in  the  spring.  The  town  is  grow 
ing,  houses  go  up  wonderful  fast,  and  Business  improves 
all  the  time.  Himpel  has  prospered,  being  known  as  an 
upright  God-fearing  Man,  and  the  talents  I  leave  in  his 
hands,  Remaining  Silent  Pardner,  will  not  be  tied  up  in  a 
Napkin. 

"  Hoping  these  few  Lines  may  reach  you   Safely,  and 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  497 

find  you  injoying  good  Health,  and  waiting  for  an  answer 
whether  you  will  come,  no  more  at  Present  from 
"  Your  uncle  to  command, 

"AMOS    WOOLLEY." 

Two  things  were  evident  from  this  somewhat  incoherent 
epistle,  —  that  my  uncle  had  finally  "  realized  "  his  venture 
in  the  coal-land  speculation,  and  was  ready  to  pay  my  share 
of  the  investment;  and  secondly,  that  he  had  keenly  felt 
the  force  of  my  accusations  and  desired  a  reconciliation. 
The  matter  had  almost  passed  out  of  my  mind  during  the 
eventful  two  years  which  had  elapsed  since  my  last  visit  to 
Reading.  I  had  given  up  my  little  inheritance  as  lost,  and 
never  dreamed  that  it  might  yet  be  restored  to  me.  My 
own  experience,  in  the  mean  time,  disposed  me  to  judge 
more  leniently  of  my  uncle's  unauthorized  use  of  the  money, 

—  especially  now  that  his  scheme  had  succeeded.     Success 
has  a  wonderful  moral  efficacy.     I  could  also  imagine  how 
his  pride  of  righteousness  had  been  wounded  by  my  words, 

—  how  they  would  come  back  to  his  mind  and  pull  him 
down  when  he  would  fain  have  exalted  himself,  and  thus 
become  a  perpetual  thorn  to  his  conscience. 

Moreover,  in  looking  back  to  the  days  of  my  life  in  Read 
ing,  I  was  able  to  read  his  character  more  intelligently. 
I  saw  that  he  was  sincere,  and  that  his  apparent  hypocrisy 
was  simply  the  result  of  narrowness  and  ignorance.  He 
had  not  sufficient  intellect  to  be  liberal,  nor  sufficient  moral 
force  to  be  consistent.  In  most  of  the  acts  of  his  life,  he 
doubtless  supposed  himself  to  be  right,  and  if,  in  this  one 
instance,  he  had  yielded  to  a  strong  temptation,  his  ultimate 
intention  was  honest.  I  was  willing  to  concede  that  he 
never  meant  to  defraud  me,  —  nay,  that  he  was  even  un 
aware  of  the  fraudulent  construction  which  might  be  put 
upon  his  act. 

The  same  day  I  dispatched  the  following  answer :  — 

32 


498  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

"  DEAR  UNCLE,  — 

"  The  news  contained  in  your  letter  of  the  7th  was  quite 
unexpected,  but  none  the  less  welcome,  for  your  sake  as 
well  as  my  own.  While  I  still  think  that  the  disposal  of 
my  little  property  ought  to  have  been  left  to  myself,  I 
cheerfully  acquit  you  of  any  intention  to  do  me  wrong,  and 
to  show  that  I  not  only  bear  no  malice,  but  am  willing  to 
retract  my  hasty  insinuations  against  your  character,  I  will 
accept  your  proffered  hospitality  when  I  visit  Reading. 
You  may  expect  me  within  the  next  four  or  five  days. 

**  Reserving  all  further  information  concerning  my  own 
fortunes  until  we  meet,  I  subscribe  myself,  with  an  affec 
tionate  greeting  for  Aunt  Peggy,  your  nephew, 

"JOHN  GODFREY." 

Mr.  Clarendon,  whose  fatherly  interest  in  my  career  was 
renewed,  and  to  whom  I  had  confided  much  of  my  early 
history,  promptly  and  generously  seconded  my  wishes.  I 
remained  only  long  enough  to  write  to  Isabel,  and  to  find 
Bob  Simmons  and  tell  him  that  he  must  spend  his  next 
Sunday  evening  elsewhere  than  in  my  attic  in  Hester 
Street.  Then  I  set  out  for  Reading,  by  way  of  Philadel 
phia. 

There  was  an  accident  on  the  road,  which  so  delayed  the 
evening  train  that  it  was  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  be 
fore  I  arrived.  Knowing  that  my  uncle  was  already  in  bed, 
I  went  to  the  Mansion  House  and  engaged  quarters  for  the 
night.  The  host  conducted  me  to  a  narrow  room,  which 
was  only  fitted  for  repose  and  privacy  when  the  adjoining 
chambers  happened  to  be  vacant.  One  of  these  communi 
cated  with  mine  by  a  door  in  the  partition,  which,  though 
locked,  was  so  shrunk  at  the  top  and  bottom  that  it  no 
more  kept  out  sound  than  a  sieve.  I  was  both  fatigued 
from  the  journey  and  excited  by  my  visit  to  the  old  place  ; 
so  I  threw  myself  at  once  into  bed,  and  lay  there,  unable 
to  sleep,  meditating  on  the  changes  of  the  past  two  or  three 
years. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  499 

Perhaps  half  an  hour  had  gone  by,  when  footsteps  and 
rustling  noises  passed  my  door,  a  key  was  turned,  and  the 
same  noises  entered  the  adjoining  chamber. 

"  Open  the  window  —  I  won't  have  my  dresses  smoked  ! " 
exclaimed  a  voice  which  sent  a  nervous  shock  through  my 
body. 

"  You  did  n't  used  to  be  so  damned  particular,"  was  the 
brutal  answer.  And  now  I  recognized  the  pair. 

"  Well,  —  never  mind  about  this.  I  sha'n't  wear  it  again," 
said  she,  in  a  bitter,  compressed  voice.  "  I  've  told  you  al 
ready,  Mr.  Rand,  that  I  've  always  been  used  to  having 
money  when  I  want  it,  —  and  I  want  it  now.  You  've 
cheated  Pa  out  of  enough  to  keep  me  in  dresses  for  a  life 
time,  and  you  must  make  it  up  to  me." 

"  How  the  devil  am  I  to  get  it  ? "  he  exclaimed,  with  a 
short,  savage  laugh. 

"  I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care.  You  and  Mulford  were 
very  free  to  put  everything  into  Old  Woolley's  pocket.  If 
you  will  be  a  fool,  don't  think  that  /  am  going  to  suffer  for 
it!" 

"  I  wish  that  soft-headed  Godfrey  had  run  away  with 
you,  before  I  ever  set  eyes  on  your  confounded  face.  You 
damned  cat !  Who  'd  think,  to  hear  you  purring  before 
folks,  and  rubbing  your  back  affectionately  against  every 
body's  feet,  that  you  could  hiss,  and  spit,  and  scratch  ?  " 

"  I  wish  he  had !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Godfrey  will  be 
Old  Woolley's  heir." 

I  was  first  made  aware  that  I  had  burst  into  a  loud, 
malicious  laugh,  by  the  sudden,  alarmed  silence,  followed 
by  low  whispers,  in  the  next  room.  They  were  themselves 
my  avengers.  Now,  indeed,  I  saw  from  what  a  fate  I  had 
been  mercifully  saved,  and  blessed  the  Providerce  which 
had  dealt  the  blow.  There  was  no  more  audible  conversa 
tion  between  my  neighbors  that  night.  They  must  have 
discovered  afterwards,  from  my  name  on  the  hotel  register, 
who  it  was  that  overheard  their  amiable  expressions.  I 


500  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

saw  them,  next  morning,  from  the  gentlemen's  end  of  the 
breakfast-table,  as  they  came  down  together,  serene  and 
smiling,  she  leaning  affectionately  on  his  arm.  Let  them 
go !  The  world,  no  doubt,  considers  them  a  happy  and 
devoted  pair. 

Nothing  in  the  old  grocery  was  changed  except  Bolty, 
who  now  wore  a  clean  shirt  and  a  pen  at  his  ear,  and  kept 
his  mouth  mostly  shut.  He  had  two  younger  assistants  in 
the  business,  but  still  reserved  to  himself  the  service  of 
favorite  customers.  When  he  saw  me  entering  the  door, 
he  jumped  over  the  counter  with  great  alacrity. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Godfrey ! "  he  cried,  "  this  is  a  surprise.  Not 
but  what  I  had  a  hint  of  it,  when  your  letter  came,  —  by 
yisterday  mornin's  mail.  Glad  to  see  you  in  My  Establish 
ment,  —  one  o'  my  fust  customers,  —  ha,  ha !  Did  you  no 
tice  the  sign  ?  I  guess  not,  —  you  was  n't  lookin'  up." 

I  was  obliged,  perforce,  to  follow  Bolty  out  upon  the 
pavement,  and  notice  the  important  fact  that  "WOOLLEY 
&  "  was  painted  out,  and  "  LEOPOLD  "  painted  in  ;  so  that 
now  the  sign  read,  —  and,  I  was  sure  would  continue  to 
read,  for  a  great  many  years  to  come,  —  "  LEOPOLD  HIM- 
PEL'S  GROCERY  STORE." 

I  determined  that  no  trace  of  what  had  passed  between 
us  should  be  visible  in  my  manner  towards  my  uncle  and 
aunt.  I  even  gave  the  latter  a  kiss  when  we  met,  which 
brought  forth  a  gush  of  genuine  tears.  There  was,  of 
course,  a  mutual  sense  of  embarrassment  at  first,  but  as 
both  parties  did  their  best  to  overcome  it,  we  were  soon 
sitting  together  and  talking  as  pleasantly  and  familiarly  as 
if  our  relations  had  never  been  disturbed. 

When  Aunt  Peggy  had  withdrawn  to  the  kitchen  to  look 
after  her  preparations  for  dinner,  Uncle  Amos  gave  me  a 
long  ?iid  very  circumstantial  history  of  his  speculation. 
Theve  was  a  great  deal  which  I  could  not  clearly  under 
stand  at  the  time,  but  which  has  since  then  been  elucidated 
by  my  own  experience  in  matters  of  business. 


JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES.  501 

The  original  scheme  had  indeed  offered  a  very  tempting 
prospect  of  success.  Several  large  tracts  of  coal-land  had 
been  purchased  for  a  comparatively  insignificant  sum,  on 
account  of  their  remoteness  from  lines  of  transportation. 
The  plan  of  the  new  railroad  which  was  to  give  them  a 
sudden  and  immense  increase  of  value,  had  not  yet  been 
made  public,  but  the  engineering  scout  employed  by  the 
capitalists  had  made  his  report.  He  was  an  acquaintance 
of  Mulford,  who  had  formerly  been  concerned  with  my 
uncle  in  some  minor  transactions.  This,  however,  was  to 
be  a  grand  strike,  promising  a  sure  fortune  to  each. 

After  the  charter  for  the  road  had  been  obtained,  and 
the  preliminary  surveys  were  made,  the  aforesaid  tracts  of 
land  might  have  been  sold  at  triple  or  quadruple  their  cost. 
This,  however,  did  not  satisfy  the  speculators,  whose  appe 
tites  were  only  whetted  by  their  partial  success.  Then  a 
period  of  financial  disturbance  ensued :  some  of  the  capi 
talists  interested  in  the  road  became  embarrassed,  and  the 
work  stopped.  The  coal-lands  fell  again  in  value,  and  the 
prospective  fortunes  dwindled  in  proportion.  Up  to  this 
time  the  lands  had  been  keld  as  a  joint-stock  investment, 
my  uncle's  share  being  one  fifth ;  but  now  there  was  a 
nominal  dissolution  of  partnership,  at  the  instance  of  Mul 
ford,  Bratton,  and  the  Rands,  each  receiving  his  share  of 
the  property,  to  be  held  thenceforth  in  his  own  name,  and 
disposed  of  at  his  own  individual  pleasure.  My  uncle  was 
no  match  for  his  wily  associates.  After  a  series  of  manoeu 
vres  which  I  will  not  ^indertake  to  explain,  they  succeeded 
in  foisting  upon  him  a  tract  lying  considerably  aside  from 
the  proposed  line  of  the  road,  and  divided  from  it  (a 
fact  of  which  he  was  not  aware)  by  a  lofty  spur  of  the 
mountains. 

When  he  discovered  the  swindle,  he  gave  himself  up  for 
lost.  The  others  held,  it  seemed,  the  only  tracts  likely  to 
be  profitable  at  some  future  day,  while  his,  though  it  might 
be  packed  with  anthracite,  was  valueless,  because  inaccessi- 


502  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

ble.  He  visited  the  spot,  however,  toiled  over  his  two 
square  miles  of  mountain  and  forest,  and  learned  one  or 
two  circumstances  which  gave  him  a  slight  degree  of  com 
fort  and  encouraged  him  to  wait.  In  eighteen  months 
from  that  time  the  first  projected  road  was  still  in  abey 
ance,  while  the  trains  of  the  Delaware  and  Lackawanna 
were  running  within  a  mile  of  his  property  !  There  were 
facilities  for  building,  at  little  cost,  a  short  connecting 
branch  :  a  golden  radiance  shone  over  the  useless  wilder 
ness,  and  he  had  finally  "  realized,"  for  something  more 
than  tenfold  his  investment. 

"  Now,"  said  Uncle  Amos,  wiping  his  fat  forehead  with  a 
bandanna  handkerchief,  —  for  the  narrative  was  long,  intri 
cate,  and  exciting,  —  "  now,  you  can  easy  calculate  what 
your  share  amounts  to.  I  've  allowed  you  interest  every 
year,  and  interest  on  that  again,  as  if  it  had  been  regularly 
put  out,  and  you  '11  find  that  it  comes,  altogether,  to  within 
a  fraction  of  twenty  thousand  dollars.  I  '11  say  square 
twenty  thousand,  because  you  can  then  invest  it  in  a  lump : 
there  's  less  temptation  to  split  and  spend.  The  money  's 
in  the  Bank,  and  you  can  have-  a  check  for  't  this  minute. 
If  you  've  felt  sore  and  distrustful  about  it  all  this  while, 
don't  forget  what  I've  gone  through  with,  that  had  all  the 
risk  and  responsibility." 

"  We  will  think  no  more  of  what  has  gone  by,  uncle,"  I 
said.  "  I  will  take  your  advice.  The  money  shall  be 
invested  as  it  is  :  I  look  on  it  still  as  the  legacy  of  my  father 
and  mother,  and  to  diminish  it  would  seem  to  diminish  the 
blessing  that  comes  with  it." 

"  That 's  right,  John !  I  'm  glad  that  you  have  grown  to 
be  a  man,  and  can  see  things  in  the  true  light.  Ah,  if  you 
would  but  see  all  the  Truth  ! " 

"  I  do,"  said  I.  "  I  know  what  you  mean,  Uncle.  I  have 
learned  my  own  weakness  and  foolishness,  and  the  strength, 
wisdom,  and  mercy  of  God." 

He  seemed  comforted  by  these  words,  if  not  wholly  con- 


JOHN    GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  503 

vinced  that  my  feet  were  in  the  safe  path.  At  dinner  his 
prayer  was  not  against  "  them  which  walk  in  darkness,"  but 
a  grateful  acknowledgment  for  undeserved  bounties,  in 
which  I  joined  with  a  devout  heart. 

I,  completely  won  Aunt  Peggy  by  confiding  to  her  my 
betrothal  and  approaching  marriage.  The  next  day,  before 
leaving  for  my  return  to  new  York,  she  brought  me  a 
parcel  wrapped  in  tissue-paper,  saying,  — 

"  I  want  to  send  something  to  her,  but  I  can't  find  any 
thing  nice  except  this,  which  Aunt  Christina  gave  me  for 
my  weddin'.  It 's  not  the  fashion,  now,  I  know,  but  folks 
says  the  same  things  come  round  every  twenty-five  or 
thirty  years,  and  so  I  expect  this  will  turn  up  again  soon. 
I  hope  she  '11  like  it." 

She  unfolded  the  paper  and  produced  a  tortoise-shell 
comb,  the  top  of  which  was  a  true-lover's-knot,  in  open  fili 
gree,  rising  nearly  six  inches  above  the  teeth.  I  smoth 
ered  my  amusement,  as  best  I  could,  under  profuse  thanks, 
and  went  away  leaving  Aunt  Peggy  proud  of  her  nephew. 


504  JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 


CHAPTER   XL. 

CONCLUSION. 

THE  story  of  my  fortunes  draws  to  an  end,  —  not  because 
the  years  that  have  since  elapsed  furnish  no  important  rev 
elation  of  life,  no  riper  lessons  for  brain  or  heart,  but 
chiefly  because  the  records  of  repose  interest  us  less  than 
those  of  struggle.  I  have  not  enjoyed,  nor  did  I  anticipate 
the  enjoyment  of,  pure,  uninterrupted  happiness,  but  my 
nature  rests  at  last  on  a  firm  basis  of  love  and  faith,  secure 
from  any  serious  aberrations  of  the  soul  or  the  senses.  I 
know  how  to  endure  trial  without  impatient  protest,  —  to 
encounter  deceit  without  condemning  my  race,  —  to  see, 
evermore,  the  arm  of  Eternal  Justice,  reaching  through 
time  and  meting  out,  in  advance,  the  fitting  equivalent  for 
every  deed.  It  is  the  vibration  of  the  string  which  gives 
forth  the  sound,  and  that  .of  my  life  now  hums  but  a  soft, 
domestic  monotone,  audible  to  a  few  ears. 

Yet  there  are  still  some  explanations  to  be  made,  before 
closing  this  narrative,  of  the  seven  years  which  renewed 
my  frame,  changing  gristle  into  bone,  and  adding  the  iron 
of  the  man  to  the  soft  blood  of  the  boy. 

The  unexpected  restoration  of  my  inheritance,  so  mar 
vellously  expanded,  necessarily  changed  my  plans  for  the 
future.  After  returning  to  New  York,  I  lost  no  time  in 
visiting  Isabel,  and  in  consulting  with  my  honored  friend, 
Mr.  Clarendon.  The  latter,  although  assuring  me  that  my 
labors  had  become  of  real  value  to  his  paper,  nevertheless 
advised  me  to  give  up  my  situation,  since  I  should  be  now 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  505 

in  the  receipt  of  a  better  income,  and  could  devote  a  year 
or  two  to  rest  and  study.  I  knew  my  own  deficiencies,  and 
was  anxious  to  supply  them  for  the  sake  of  the  new  life 
which  was  opening.  A  spark  of  ambition  still  burned 
among  the  ashes  of  my  early  dreams.  While  recognizing 
that  I  had  mistaken  enthusiasm  for  power,  and  sentiment 
for  genius,  —  that  my  poetic  sympathy  was  not  sufficient  to 
constitute  the  genuine  poetic  faculty,  —  I  had  nevertheless 
acquired  a  facility  of  expression,  a  tolerable  skill  in  de 
scription,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  resources  of  author-craft, 
which,  in  less  ambitious  ways,  might  serve  me,  and  enable 
me  to  serve  my  fellow-men.  The  appetite  was  upon  me, 
never  to  be  cured.  There  is  more  hope  for  the  man  who 
tastes  wine  than  for  him  who  has  once  tasted  type  and 
printer's  ink.  Though  but  one  in  fifty  feels  the  airy  intox 
ication  of  fame,  while  the  others  drink  themselves  into 
stupidity,  and  then  into  fatuity,  who  is  deterred  by  the  ex 
ample  ? 

My  inheritance  did  me  good  service  in  another  way. 
The  reason  for  my  withdrawal  from  the  Wonder  became 
known,  and  my  friend,  the  reporter  of  the  Avenger,  put  it 
into  the  "  Personal "  column  of  that  paper,  stating  that  I 
had  fallen  heir  to  an  immense  fortune.  The  article  was 
headed  "An  Author  in  Luck"  and,  of  course,  went  the 
rounds  of  the  other  papers.  I  was  congratulated  by  every 
body  whom  I  had  ever  met,  and  even  Messrs.  Renwick  and 
Blossom,  overlooking  the  ignominy  of  my  flight  from  Mrs. 
De  Peyster's  boarding-house,  left  their  cards  at  Mrs.  Very's 
door.  I  gave  the  black  boy  who  scoured  the  knives  two 
shillings  to  carry  my  cards  to  them  in  return,  and  went  up 
to  Stanton  Street,  to  pass  the  evening  with  Bob  Simmons. 

With  October  Isabel  came  back  to  the  city.  She  had  al 
ready  written  to  her  step-father  and  the  two  associate  trus 
tees,  and  on  the  day  when  she  completed  her  twenty-first 
year  the  papers  representing  her  property  were  placed  in 
her  hands.  Mr.  Floyd,  who  had  always  treated  her  kindly, 


506  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

and  who  had  found  his  house  very  lonely  since  her  depart 
ure,  begged  her  to  return,  even  going  to  the  length  of  of 
fering  to  banish  his  son.  Then  Isabel  quietly  said,  — 

"  I  shall  be  married  to  Mr.  Godfrey  in  two  months,  and 
will  not  dispossess  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd  for  so  short  a  time." 

The  old  man  sighed  wearily.  The  announcement,  of 
course,  was  not  unexpected.  There  was  a  little  affection 
somewhere  among  the 'stock-jobbing  interests  which  filled 
his  heart ;  he  had  once  imagined  that  his  step-daughter 
might  become  his  daughter-in-law,  and  keep  a  warm  home 
for  his  old  days.  His  intercourse  with  his  son  consisted 
principally  of  impudent  demands  for  money  on  one  side, 
and  angry  remonstrances  on  the  other.  What  could  he  ex 
pect  ?  He  gave  his  life  to  Wall  Street,  and  that  stony  di 
vinity  does  not  say,  "  Train  up  your  children."  On  the  con 
trary,  one  of  her  commandments  is,  "  Thou  shalt  give  thy 
sons  cigars  and  thy  daughters  silks,  and  let  them  run,  that 
the  care  of  them  may  not  take  thy  mind  from  stocks." 

As  for  Mr.  Tracy  Floyd,  his  fate  was  already  decided, 
though  we  did  not  know  it  at  the  time.  For  one  so  selfish 
and  shallow-hearted,  his  only  plan  of  life  —  to  be  the  idle, 
elegant  husband  of  an  heiress  —  failed  most  singularly  and 
lamentably.  Miss  Levi  employed  the  magnetism  of  her 
powerful  Oriental  eyes  to  some  purpose,  for  she  trod  his 
plans  under  foot  and  married  him  before  the  summer  was 
over.  I  would  give  much  to  know  the  successive  saps  and 
mines,  the  stealthy  approaches,  and  the  final  onset  by  which 
she  gained  possession  of  the  empty  citadel ;  it  would  be  a 
more  intricate  romance  than  my  own.  She  was  a  Jewess, 
with  very  little  money  in  her  own  right,  but  wealthy  con 
nections.  The  latter  were  desirous  of  rising  in  society, 
and  it  was  believed  that  they  allowed  a  moderate  annuity 
to  Mrs.  Floyd,  on  condition  that  the  match  should  be  'used 
to  further  their  plans  in  this  respect,  and  that  the  possible 
future  children  should  be  educated  in  their  faith.  I  will 
not  vouch  for  the  truth  of  this  report,  but  the  gossips  of 


JOHN   GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  507 

Gramercy  Park  that  winter  declared  that  the  Floyd  man 
sion  was  frequented  by  numbers  of  persons  with  large 
noses  and  narrow  stripes  of  forehead. 

We  were  married  in  December.  Isabel  wore  the  sap 
phires  I  loved,  but  their  sparkle  could  not  dim  the  sweet, 
tremulous  lustre  of  her  kindred  eyes.  It  was  a  very  quiet 
and  unostentatious  wedding,  followed  by  a  reception  in  Mrs. 
Deering's  rooms.  When  evening  came,  my  wife  and  I  left 
our  friends,  and  went  together,  —  not  on  a  tour  from  hotel 
to  hotel,  with  a  succession  of  flashy  "  Bridal  Chambers  "  at 
our  disposal,  —  but  to  the  dear  little  house  in  Irving  Place 
which  was  now  to  be  our  home.  Yet  we  did  not  go  alone. 
Three  radiant  genii,  with  linked  hands,  walked  before  us, 

—  Peace  to  kindle  the  fire  on  our  domestic  hearth,  and 
Confidence  and  Love  to  light  the  lamps  beside  our  nuptial 
couch. 

Some  weeks  afterwards,  I  received,  one  morning,  the  fol 
lowing  letter  from  San  Francisco  :  — 

"  MY  DEAR  JOHN,  —  I  know  why  you  have  not  written 
to  me.  In  fact  I  knew,  months  ago,  (through  Deering,) 
what  was  coming,  and  had  conquered  whatever  soreness 
was  left  in  my  heart.  Fortunately  my  will  is  also  strong 
in  a  reflective  sense,  and  I  am,  moreover,  no  child  to  la 
ment  over  an  irretrievable  loss.  I  dare  say  the  future  will 
make  it  up  to  me,  in  some  way,  if  I  wait  long  enough.  At 
any  rate,  you  won't  object,  my  dear  old  fellow,  to  have  me 
say  —  not  that  I  wish  you  happiness,  for  you  have  it,  but  — 
that  you  deserve  your  double  fortune.  The  other  item  I 
picked  up  from  a  newspaper ;  you  might  have  written  me 
that. 

"  With  this  steamer  there  will  come  a  trifle,  which  I  hope 
may  be  accepted  in  token  of  forgetfulness  and  forgiveness, 

—  though  it  is  Fate,  not  myself,  that  should  be  forgiven. 
There  may  also  come  a  time  —  nay,  I  swear  it  shall  come, 

—  when  I  may  sit  by  your  fireside  and  warm   my  bald 


508  JOHN   GODFREY'S   FORTUNES. 

head,  and  nurse  my  gouty  leg,  and  drink  my  glass  of  Port. 
Pray  that  it  may  be  sooner  for  the  sake  of  your  (and  hers, 
now)  "Affectionate  cousin, 

"ALEXANDER  PENROSE." 

The  "  trifle  "  was  a  superb  India  shawl,  and  I  am  glad 
that  Isabel  likes  to  wear  it.  We  have  not  yet  seen  our 
cousin,  for  we  were  absent  from  New  York  when  he  came 
to  the  Atlantic  side,  two  years  afterwards ;  but  we  believe 
in  the  day  when  he  shall  be  an  honored  and  beloved  guest 
under  our  roof.  Till  then,  one  side-rill  of  bliss  is  wanting 
to  the  full  stream  of  our  lives. 

Within  a  year  after  our  marriage,  Mr.  Floyd  met  the 
usual  fate  of  men  of  his  class.  Paralysis  and  softening  of 
the  brain  took  him  away  from  the  hard  pavements  and  the 
granite  steps  he  had  trodden  so  long.  The  mind,  absent 
from  his  vacant  eyes,  no  doubt  still  flitted  about  on  'Change, 
holding  ghostly  scrip  and  restlessly  seeking  phantom  quo 
tations.  It  was  not  with  us ;  but  we  took  his  body  and 
cared  for  it  a  little  while,  until  the  mechanical  life  ceased. 
Then  reverence  forbade  us  to  wonder  what  occupation  the 
soul  could  find  in  the  world  beyond  stock. 

When  spring  came,  I  took  Isabel  to  the  Cross-Keys,  ^and 
gave  her  the  first  bud  from  the  little  rose-tree  on  my  moth 
er's  grave.  Kindly  hands  had  kept  away  the  weeds,  and 
the  letters  on  the  head-stone  were  no  less  carefully  cleaned 
from  moss  and  rust  than  those  which  contained  my  boyish 
promise  of  immortality,  —  the  epitaph  on  Becky  Jane  Niles. 
Our  visit  was  a  white  day  in  the  good  Neighbor's  life. 
She  tried  to  call  me  "  Mr.  Godfrey,"  but  the  familiar 
"  Johnriy  "  would  come  into  her  mouth,  confusing  her  and 
bringing  the  unwonted  color  into  her  good  old  face,  until 
she  hit  upon  the  satisfactory  expedient  of  addressing  me  as 
"  Sir."  I  don't  believe  any  garment  since  her  wedding- 
dress  gave  her  as  much  pleasure  as  the  black  silk  we  left 
behind  us. 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.  509 

Thence  we  went  to  Reading,  where  Isabel  speedily  won 
the  hearts  of  Uncle  and  Aunt  Woolley,  and  so  homeward 
by  way  of  Upper  Samaria.  Our  visit  was  a  great  surprise 
to  Dan  Yule,  who  had  not  heard  a  word  about  me  since  I 
burned  "  Leonora's  Dream "  under  the  willows.  Mother 
Yule  was  dead,  but  Dan  and  his  "  Lavina  "  kept  the  plain, 
cheerful  spirit  of  the  old  home  intact,  and  it  was  a  happy 
day  we  passed  under  their  roof.  A  messenger  was  sent  to 
Susan,  who  came  over  the  hills  with  Ben  and  their  lusty 
baby  to  tea,  and  the  lively  gossip  around  the  fire  in  the 
great  kitchen  chimney-place  scarcely  came  to  an  end.  I 
was  glad  to  hear  that  Verbena  Cuff  was  married.  Then 
first  I  dared  tell  the  story  of  the  lime-kiln. 

And  now,  having  carefully  disposed  of  so  many  of  the 
personages  of  my  history,  after  the  manner  of  an  English 
novelist  of  the  last  century,  my  readers  may  demand  that  I 
should  be  equally  considerate  of  the  remainder.  But  the 
Rands  and  the  Brattons  have  passed  out  of  the  circle  of 
my  knowledge.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  Mortimers 
and  Miss  Tatting.  Mears^  has  married  a  wealthy  widow, 
and  given  up  art  for  artistic  literature.  (I  betray  no  secret 
when  I  state  that  he  is  the  well-known  "  Anti-Ruskin," 
whose  papers  appear  in  "  The  Beaten  Path.")  Brandagee, 
has,  perhaps,  undergone  the  greatest  transformation  of  all ; 
and  yet,  now  that  I  know  mankind  better,  I  can  see  that 
it  is  in  reality  no  transformation,  but  a  logical  development 
of  his  nature.  Having  scraped  together  a  little  capital,  — 
probably  obtained  by  following  Fiorentino's  method,  —  he 
ventured  into  Wall  Street  one  day,  was  lucky,  followed 
his  luck,  rapidly  became  a  shrewd  and  daring  operator, 
and  is  supposed  to  be  in  prosperous  if  not  brilliant  circum 
stances.  He  lives  at  the  Brevoort  House,  and  spends  his 
money  liberally  —  upon  himself.  He  is  never  known  to 
lend  to  a  needy  Bohemian.  "  Gold,"  he  now  says,  "  is  the 
only  positive  substance."  I  frequently  meet  him,  and  as 
the  remembrance  of  my  vagabond  association  with  him  has 


510  JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES. 

left  no  very  deep  sting,  we  exchange  salutations  and  re 
marks,  —  but  there  is  no  intimacy  between  us,  and  there 
never  will  be. 

"  But  what  of  Bob  Simmons  ?  And  of  Jane  Berry  ?  " 
the  curious  reader  may  ask.  Shall  I  again  lift  the  veil 
which  I  have  dropped  upon  two  unfortunate  hearts  ?  — 
Rather  let  it  hang,  that  each  one  may  work  out  in  his  own 
way  the  problem  I  have  indicated.  Whether  the  folly  of 
a  day  is  to  be  the  misery  of  a  life,  or,  on  the  other  hand, 
a  too  easy  rehabilitation  of  woman's  priceless  purity  shall 
be  allowed  to  lessen  the  honor  of  the  sex,  are  the  questions 
which  my  poor  friends  were  called  upon  to  solve.  Which 
ever  side  we  may  take,  let  us  not  deny  human  pity  to  the 
struggle  through  which  they  must  pass,  before  peace,  in 
either  form,  can  rest  upon  their  lives. 

If  there  is  any  lesson  in  my  story,  I  think  it  is  not  neces 
sary  that  I  should  distinctly  enunciate  it.  In  turning  over 
these  pages,  wherein  a  portion  of  my  life  is  faithfully  re 
corded,  I  see,  not  only  that  I  am  no  model  hero,  but  that 
my  narrative  is  no  model  romance.  The  tragic  element, 
in  externals,  at  least,  is  lacking,  —  but  then  mine  has  been 
no  exceptional  life.  It  only  runs,  with  different  undula 
tions,  between  the  limits  in  which  many  other  lives  are  in 
closed.  Why,  then,  should  I  write  it  ?  Because  the  honest 
confession  of  a  young  man's  fluctuating  faith,  his  vanity 
and  impatience,  his  struggle  with  temptations  of  the  intel 
lect  and  the  senses,  and  the  workings  of  that  Providence 
which  humbles,  sobers,  and  instructs  him,  can  never  be 
without  interest  and  profit  to  his  fellow-men.  If  another 
reason  is  wanted  I  will  give  it,  and  with  it  a  final,  fleeting 
tableau  of  my  present  life. 

Time,  nearly  a  year  ago.  Scene,  the  little  lawn  in  front 
of  our  cottage  on  Staten  Island.  I  am  sitting  on  the  ve 
randa,  in  an  arm-chair  of  Indian-cane,  with  Jean  Paul's 
"  Titan "  —  a  very  literary  nebula,  by  the  way,  the  fluid 
essence  of  a  hundred  stars  —  in  my  hand.  Isabel,  fuller 


JOHN  GODFREY'S  FORTUNES.         511 

and  rounder  in  her  form,  buT  with  the  same  fresh,  clear 
beauty  in  her  features,  (how  often  I  think  of  Penrose's  ex 
clamation,  —  "  She  is  my  Eos  —  my  Aurora ! ")  sits  near 
me,  but  her  work  rests  on  her  lap,  and  her  eyes  follow  the 
gambols  of  Charles  Swansford  Godfrey,  whose  locks  of 
golden  auburn  shine  out  from  the  rift  in  a  clump  of  box, 
where  he  is  seeking  to  hide  from  his  little  sister  Barbara. 
It  is  a  charming  picture,  but  I  am  too  restless  to  enjoy  it 
as  a  husband  and  father  ought. 

I  throw  down  "  Titan "  and  pace  up  and  down  the  ve 
randa  with  rapid  strides.  Isabel  looks  towards  me,  and  a 
shade  (think  not  that  another  eye  than  mine  would  notice 
it !)  passes  over  her  face.  I  stop  before  her  chair. 

"  Bell,"  I  say,  "  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  have  tried  hard  to 
give  up  my  literary  ambition,  and  enjoy  this  lazy,  happy 
life  of  ours,  but  the  taint  sticks  in  my  blood.  I  am  restless 
because  my  mind  is  unemployed :  these  occasional  sketches 
and  stories  don't  fill  the  void.  I  want  a  task  which  shall 
require  a  volume.  Can't  you  give  me  a  subject  ?  " 

"I  have  been  feeling  the  same  thing  all  along,  John," 
says  she,  "  and  only  waited  for  you  to  speak  of  it.  Don't 
aim  too  high  in  your  first  essay  :  take  that  which  is  nearest 
and  most  familiar.  Why  not  tell  the  story  of  your  own 
life?" 

"  I  will ! "  I  exclaim,  giving  her  a  kiss  as  a  reward  for 
this  easy  solution  of  the  difficulty. 

And  I  have  done  it. 


THE    END. 


14 


BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


